Running Alone
by IRemainNameless
Summary: What happens when a fan falls into the show?
1. In Which a Dream is Not a Dream

_Chapter One: In Which A Dream is Not a Dream_

Sarah woke up, but refused to open her eyes just yet. She'd been having the most wonderful dream. She could rarely remember her dreams, so when they came she tried to hold on to them for as long as possible. This one was particularly good. It had to do with one of her favorite shows, Doctor Who—possibly because she'd stayed up late watching season 3. She had been pulled from her bed by the TARDIS, or its human incarnation from season 6, and had been entreated to follow. _Come with me, Sarah. Let's have some adventures!, _she had said. Sarah followed her out of the window of her flat and through the parking lot. On the far side she could see a yellow light gleaming and she hesitated, unsure. The woman laughed wildly and, grabbing Sarah's hand, ran toward the light. When they reached it she found the bright blue TARDIS, its windows gleaming with yellow light and the door opened invitingly. The woman dragged her inside and watched as Sarah gaped, taking in her surroundings. It was truly bigger on the inside. The woman smiled a gleaming, mischievous grin. _I think you'll make a nice surprise for him. I can't wait to see the look on his face!, _she said as she laughed a little too loudly and spun into nothingness. Left alone, Sarah took in the TARDIS that was so familiar and yet so new—the yellow-tinged walls, the metal cording, the hub from which the Doctor ran the ship…and suddenly she felt very tired. A tingling sensation had washed over her and she could do nothing except fall against the various buttons and knobs that would steer the TARDIS, falling onto the cold metal floor. And then she had more dreams…

But now the dream was over and she had to face reality. She sighed. Someone had been calling her name—probably a flatmate of hers, wanting to borrow a pot. She supposed she would have to get up sometime.

She put an arm out to raise herself up and touched a hard metal floor. Her eyes jerked open with a start. "What the-" She looked up at the TARDIS, which had never left her. There were the crisscrossing wires, the blue walls with yellow gleam, the metal flooring, the door that led out to everything…and the Doctor. No, wait, it couldn't be. She shook her head. That was David Tennant, an actor, and this was an elaborate set. She turned, expecting to see the set halved and the camera crew and studio, and instead found the other half of the TARDIS. Here there were staircases that led to who knew what, and a door that led onto what might have been a kitchen.

She turned back, trying to process. Her brain was coming up with no explanations. Finally, she turned to the one person who might be able to give her some answers.

David Tennant— the Doctor?—was sitting against the hub of the TARDIS, watching her. One leg was bent and his arm rested on his knee and his fingers clenched and unclenched absently. Was he nervous? Apprehensive? She couldn't read his dark brown eyes, but his forehead puckered into a slight frown. He didn't seem angry, but confused. His free hand mussed his hair in frustration, and he spoke. "Care to explain how you turned up here, then?"

"I—I was hoping you might have an explanation. Like, maybe it's my birthday and I forgot? Someone arranged an elaborate hoax for me to meet my favorite actor?" She grinned halfheartedly and looked for the hidden cake and a friend to shout _Surprise! _Nothing came.

"An actor? I'm not an actor, I'm a doctor. Well, _the _Doctor. But that's besides the point. Who are you, where did you come from and how can I get you back where you belong?"

She blinked, flustered by the questions. If she was to accept that she had truly fallen into her own fantasy, shouldn't her favorite character be friendlier? If this was a dream than surely the Doctor would just accept her presence and take her on a wild journey, rather than frown and treat her like a problem to be solved.

She opened her mouth to answer when she was knocked over by a tremor. A hand grabbed her shoulder and steadied her as the TARDIS shook, overtaken by some unseen force. She looked up to see the Doctor leaning over her protectively, his eyes set with a wild gleam, raking over their surroundings to find the cause. Finally the tremors stopped and he sprang from her as quickly as he'd reached her. He stood to spin wheels and turn knobs and consult screens, and she hadn't yet moved from her crouch on the floor. This was some dream she'd fallen into.

"No, no, NO!" The doctor shouted, and Sarah wasn't sure who he was addressing—himself, or the TARDIS, or Sarah herself, or no one at all. "This can't be where we are!"

They both froze at the next words they heard. "_WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"_


	2. In Which a Rose is Not a Rose

_Chapter Two- In Which A Rose is Not a Rose_

_He could not believe it. Not again. And not like this. He was trying to play it safe for once and had been traveling for months without a companion when this girl turns up out of nowhere. He stepped towards her, leaning over to get a better look. She seemed to be fast asleep and long blonde hair splayed out over the metal flooring. Eyes with long black lashes fluttered…no. He stepped away and stumbled down to sit on the floor. He propped a leg up and raked his fingers through his hair, as if he was trying to scratch away the memories. That was not Rose. That was just a human girl who he would be rid of soon. Whoever she was, she was safer away from him._

_ When she woke up the similarity to Rose was less pronounced. This girl had blue eyes, a more rounded face, and none of Rose's attitude. This girl wanted to appease him, to avoid his anger. Rose would have yelled at him, made him calm down. This girl was definitely nothing like Rose. And yet…he would have to get her away quickly. It was too soon. Much, much too soon._

_ Then the TARDIS shook and the Doctor knew that they were in big trouble. Whoever she was, she'd have to stick around for this and it wouldn't be pretty._

"EX-TERMINATE! EXTERMINAAAATE!"

Sarah froze. This was no longer a fun little dream—this was real. The Daleks on Doctor Who had been much more fun when they were safe in her television, rather than threatening her from feet away. The tips of her fingers were cold as she rubbed her temples, trying to calm herself, trying to think.

Suddenly the Doctor's face filled her vision and he grabbed her shoulders. "Listen to me. I don't know who you are or where you come from, but you're involved now and I'm truly sorry. Just do what I say and I promise you I'll get you out alive. Do you trust me?"

His intense brown eyes bore into her blue ones and she found it hard to answer. _"Do you trust me?" _He repeated, gripping her shoulders harder. She closed her eyes briefly. She would have to accept that reality proved, for the time being, that Doctor Who was no longer a show. And if she had to accept that, she also had to accept everything that was established on the show as true. The one fact that remained throughout every episode was that the Doctor should be trusted.

She opened her eyes. "Yes. I trust you."

His brow furrowed for just a second—as if he wondered whether he deserved her trust—but he nodded, released her, and went to the door. He placed a hand on the wood, turned to her, and grimaced. "Here goes," he said, "Just keep quiet and stay close to me." He pushed the door open.

She rose, unsteady on her feet, and stood behind him to look at the world that faced them. Outside was a barren landscape, with decaying buildings and dry earth, and absolutely covered with Daleks. They grouped in neat lines, ready to fire at any moment, and one Dalek stood ahead of the rest to face the door of the TARDIS. Every gun was pointed at the Doctor and herself.

"COME OUT SLOWLY," The lead Dalek instructed. She could not see the Doctor's expression as he slowly raised his arms and stepped forward. She followed suit, raising her arms and leaving the safety of the TARDIS. As soon as she and the Doctor were far enough away from the TARDIS the Daleks closed ranks behind them, forming a large circle from which they had no chance of escape. "YOU WILL COME WITH US," said the lead Dalek, who turned to face forward and lead the way, trusting to the hundreds of Daleks on all sides to keep their guns trained on the two prisoners. Sarah's fingers clenched and, in spite of her fear, she wanted most to lower her arms. She'd never thought how annoying it must be for victims in hold ups to keep their arms raised for this long. This adventure was no longer exciting—all she wanted was to go back home and curl up with a cup of tea and a book. From the safety of reader or viewer she could get all the adventure she wanted. She never wanted this; to experience the action from the battlefield herself. She realized now that she would much rather the position of spectator rather than participant.

They walked on, and Sarah felt her panic ebb away with the lack of immediate threats on her life. Well, there were about a hundred guns trained on her, but they weren't _currently_ shooting. They reached what looked like their destination—a large, metal doorway that led onto a shadowy hallway— and the lead Dalek entered and the Doctor followed. Sarah stepped forward, only to find that her foot did not meet ground. Instead she fell into darkness, the only sounds that of an angry yell and metallic laughter.

She woke to find herself on another cold floor. She blinked in the sudden bright light of a bulb that dangled over her head. A Dalek turned, separated from her by iron bars. She was in a tiny room consisting of only a toilet and a light bulb on a cord. It looked out onto a hallway of some sort, with more cells and perhaps more prisoners. The Dalek seemed to be guarding her cell, in case she somehow managed to slip through the bars.

"WE HAVE YOU CAPTURED, ROSE TYLER. NOW THE DOCTOR MUST DO AS WE COMMAND," said the Dalek, turning toward her.

"I—Rose Tyler? Is that who you think I am?" She looked down at herself, wondering how the Daleks could possibly have made such a mistake. She was a good inch or so taller than Rose, judging by how high she came up on the Doctor when she stood next to him, and her figure was…rather fuller. Even her face could not be mistaken for Rose's, with blue eyes and much paler, freckled skin. The only similarity was her long blonde hair. "You're completely wrong, I'm not Rose! My name is Sarah!"

"WE WILL NOT BE SO EASILY FOOLED, ROSE TYLER. WE HAVE BEEN TRICKED IN THE PAST. THIS TIME THE DOCTOR IS OURS." The Dalek answered, then turned to ignore her. It seemed to prefer concentrating on monitoring the hallway than paying attention to the cornered prisoner.

"If you think he's going to risk everything to save me, you're wrong. I'm _not _Rose Tyler and he doesn't give a damn about me. He doesn't even know me." She said as she slumped against the wall. The Dalek continued to ignored her, but the words resonated in her own head as the cold, sad truth. Whatever the Daleks wanted it would not be accomplished by threatening the Doctor with Sarah's life. Rose was the woman he had been in love with, before she had been forced to leave, and it was perfectly logical that the Daleks would think to use her as leverage. But Sarah was nothing like Rose. She was not as brave, nor as beautiful, nor even as witty. She drew her knees up to her chest and dropped her head. Now was when the writers would think of some clever, ingenious way to get the prisoner out of the cell and frustrate the plans of the Daleks. There were no writers anymore, though—Sarah was stuck in a reality that she felt was entirely out of her depth.

The Doctor whipped around to save the girl, only to catch sight of blonde hair falling into darkness. A metal grating closed over the hole, cutting off his only way of getting to her. He turned back to the Daleks, an unintelligible roar escaping him. The Daleks laughed, clearly pleased with their trap.

"What have you _DONE?" _He yelled, fists clenched.

"NOW WE HAVE YOU, DOCTOR. YOU CANNOT REFUSE US IF WE HAVE THE ROSE. OUR PLAN IS PERFECT," said the lead Dalek with characteristic confidence.

"The what? The—oh God, Rose." Agitated, his left hand raked his scalp again. "That is not Rose. Rose is gone. She's…someone else. Good lord, I don't even know her name." He frowned, momentarily distracted from his current plight.

The Daleks ignored him. "YOU WILL CONDUCT THE TAAR-DIS FOR US AND TAKE US TO THE WAR. THE DALEK RACE SHALL BE GLORIOUS ONCE MORE!" The Dalek said, waving its eyestalk in what was clearly meant to be a pleased manner. "THE ACQUISITION OF ROSE SHALL ENSURE YOUR COOPERATION."

"I'm telling you, she's _not _Rose! And you know that I won't do that! Not now, not ever." The Doctor answered in a growl. He felt cornered. He hated feeling cornered.

"THEN ROSE TYLER SHALL DIE," the Dalek answered simply.


	3. In Which the Plan Involves Running

_Chapter Three: In Which The Plan Involves Running_

An hour later, Sarah was still slumped against the wall. She had absolutely no idea how to rectify this situation; all possible outcomes did not seem favorable. Most likely the Doctor would deny Sarah's worth as a hostage, being quite obviously not Rose, would refuse to help and either escape or be "exterminated". On the off chance that he decided to save Sarah anyway, even though she had zero value to him as an absolute stranger, she still couldn't see how he could help her, as they were outnumbered by hundreds. The situation looked rather bleak. She flung her head back against the wall, then cursed at the sharp pain she'd caused herself. Rubbing her head, she felt sorrier for herself than she had in a long time…and then stopped. What is the point of being sorry for yourself, exactly?, she thought. It wasn't exactly getting her anywhere. If she had concluded that her chances of help from the Doctor were negligible, then her survival clearly lay in her own hands. Hands… she took her hand away from her skull to examine her palms and remembered something from the Doctor Who show. She had come up with an idea—a genuinely stupid idea.

She braced herself, then called out to her guard. "Hey! Dalek! I'm not Rose, and I can prove it to you!"

The Dalek turned its eyestalk on her. It did not answer, but merely looked at her through its cold blue lens.

She raised her hand. "A Dalek took DNA from Rose once, right? And then you other Daleks all stem from that one? So if I touch you you'll see that we have different DNA. I'm not Rose. And then you'll have to tell your superiors that you've had a big mistake, won't you?"

She waited with baited breath to see what the Dalek would do. Possibly it would shoot her on the spot, but from what she knew of Daleks she doubted it. They were too curious to shoot first and ask questions later. That, and they really loved drawing out deaths by talking.

"SHOW ME YOUR HAND, HUMAN." The Dalek responded, giving her its full attention.

Her mind was working fast. "Well, you're going to have to let me out for a second, aren't you? I can't fit my hand through those bars." She walked up to the bars to demonstrate, and could hardly fit one palm through vertically.

The Dalek considered again. It moved back a few feet, and Sarah flinched, convinced she was done for. Then there was the click of a latch unlocking and the bars rose, scraping against each other. When they had receded into the ceiling Sarah stepped out cautiously.

"SHOW ME YOUR HAND, HUMAN." The Dalek repeated.

Sarah took advantage of the Dalek's distance from her to step further out of her cell, her hand outstretched. Looking out of the corner of her eye she could see that the hallway was not long and seemed to connect more branches that were out of sight. This was a very, very stupid plan. And she hoped it would work.

Reaching the Dalek, she held her palm outstretched and touched the metal surface, only to feel herself burned. She jerked her hand back.

"PROCESSING INFORMATION," the Dalek said, its eyestalk directed away from her for the first time.

I could wait for it to realize that I'm not Rose. Or, I could run, she thought. A second later, Sarah started running. She had turned a corner before the Dalek had realized what she had done, and now she could head its echoed screams of frustration as she tore down another hallway. This was a seriously stupid idea. She hoped it was stupid enough to work.

Having completed their goal of heading in the direction of the ruined structure—to trap "Rose" and therefore have leverage over the Doctor—the Daleks now forced him to walk back to the TARDIS. The Doctor, usually a bundle of nervous energy and endless ideas, was at a loss as to how to get himself out of this situation. The Daleks had him properly cornered and with every step they led him away from the poor girl who he'd gotten mixed up into this. He ground his teeth, hating himself again for getting yet another innocent person into horrible danger. It was never his fault and it was always his fault, and always his responsibility to get them out alive. No brilliant ideas were coming to him quite yet, and he hoped he could get the girl out safely. If he could get her out, he planned on asking her what her name was. They had ended up with their lives on the line together and he didn't even know what to call her. It was pathetic.

He turned his head, sighing, and saw something yellow in the distance. A figure with blonde hair waved from behind a fallen metal railing and then disappeared again. The Doctor looked quickly at the Daleks to see if they had noticed anything, but all were focused fixedly on their goal—the TARDIS. Unfortunately, so was the girl. Now that he had spotted her he could see that she was carefully picking her way towards the blue box, and eventually the Daleks would have to notice her. Then he grinned to himself—clever girl. Finally, he had a plan.

Sarah was ducking behind the rubble, which was very convenient for her current desire of staying unseen. She hoped the Doctor had seen her, though. It had been a risk, to wave like that, but she had to let him know what she was doing. If only because she had no idea what to do when she got to the TARDIS and hoped to hell that he had a plan. Her ideas for brilliant plans were thoroughly out of commission; it had been all she could do to get away from that Dalek. She had managed to escape by the simple virtue of running very fast. Then she'd found a loose beam to toss in its path—she had heard a satisfying crunch, so she hoped she'd done damage—and had then found a ladder. She had no idea where the ladder would take her except away from the Dalek, which sounded good to her. Ladders seemed particularly good to her, as Daleks had no legs and couldn't use ladders, she thought as she climbed. Then she remembered the horrible moment in an episode where it turned out that Daleks could levitate. She gritted her teeth and climbed faster, hoping that she had done quite a bit of damage with the fallen beam.

The ladder had come out near where the Daleks had cornered the Doctor and where she had fallen into her prison. She looked for the Doctor, her heart dropping out of her chest—if she couldn't find him and had to go back into that building and risk getting caught she was done for—but then saw the huddled Daleks heading back towards the TARDIS. Panting, she decided to follow behind. If she could just somehow get in the TARDIS without the Daleks noticing…

Now Sarah was picking her way through rubble, getting steadily ahead of the Daleks and honing in on the TARDIS. Hopefully the Doctor had seen her wave and was thinking of a plan, because she sure didn't have one. She had picked her way to the back of the TARDIS and managed to hide behind it quickly. She didn't think anyone had seen—if a Dalek had it certainly would have meant immediate screams of EXTERMINATE! – but she had made brief eye contact with the Doctor, who had nodded. She took this to mean he had a plan…she hoped.

Meanwhile, the Daleks had cornered the Doctor up against the door of the TARDIS. Sarah couldn't see what was going on, but she could at least hear it.

"Well, I seem to be good and cornered here! It's too bad no one can help me! If they could, they would press the escape hatch button on the back of the TARDIS and get in that way. But it's too bad my friend is all locked up and helpless!" Called the Doctor, rather too loudly.

She rolled her eyes. It was fortunate that the Daleks weren't good at picking up on inflections. Still, she began searching for a button that looked like it might be useful while the Daleks insisted that the Doctor get inside and do as they demanded. She started to panic as no such button appeared, when suddenly a very convenient red button popped up out of nowhere, labeled "ESCAPE HATCH". She blinked, wondering what caused this appearance, then shrugged and pressed it. Silently—which was very lucky—a small doorway, about the size of a large dog flap, opened up. Sarah quickly crawled inside and the door shut behind her. She stood up in the TARDIS, feeling relieved. And then she realized she had no idea how to get the Doctor to fly this thing.

She went to the door and peeked out the window, to see the Daleks getting closer and closer. The Doctor's hand was lightly tapping on the door and his back was pressed against the blue wood. Her nails scraped her scalp—how in the world was she supposed to get him inside? And then it hit her. When in doubt, run very fast.

She took a deep breath, opened the door, grabbed the Doctor, tossed him unceremoniously inside and shut the door again. She then leaned up against it for good measure. The Doctor had sprinted to the controls and soon the familiar warping noise of the TARDIS in motion began. She sighed in relief and looked out the window again to see frustrated Daleks waving eyestalks and guns in frustration, but they soon faded out of sight. They were safe, for now.

She looked up to see the Doctor, in his blue pinstriped suit, hands in his pockets, looking stern. The smile faded from her face. Was he seriously going to be mad at her after she had quite literally saved them both? She began to frown, and opened her mouth to defend herself.

"Now, hold on a second. I know you don't know me, or like me, but you have to admit that I totally did you a favor back there! You can't be angry—"

But she paused, distracted by the wide grin that had come across his face. "You were _brilliant!_" He shouted, and he hugged her. Surprised, she didn't know what to do with her arms but eventually decided on a brief pat on his upper back. Fortunately he was too distracted to recognize how awkward she felt.

He stepped back again. "You're amazing, you are! Now, I really have to ask—what's your name?"

She tucked her chin into her chest, feeling shy again, but smiled. "Sarah. I'm Sarah."

"Well, nice to meet you Sarah! Welcome aboard the TARDIS!"


	4. In Which There is a Ball

_Chapter Four: In Which There is a Ball_

Sarah was perched on a pile of cords by the hub of the TARDIS, reading a Sherlock Holmes novel. The Doctor had yelled at her for sitting there before, but nothing horrible had happened yet and, as she told him, "I'll stop sitting here when you get more seating for this ship!" He was unable to answer that, and so she was left to her chosen seat. The Doctor was a few feet away, sprawled on the floor, playing a game of chess by himself. He had tried to play with Sarah but both were quickly fed up—he with her lack of chess ability, she with the game itself. She had never liked the strategy of chess. She had always been more of plan-on-the-go sort of person. Sarah glanced at the Doctor, who was entirely relaxed, unaware of her gaze. They had been traveling together for about a week. Every day she waited for the moment when he would finally ask her where she was from and make her go home, but it hadn't come yet. Still, he also hadn't confirmed her as a companion. She let her novel fall forward onto her stomach and looked at the door of the TARDIS, to which she still had no key. From watching the show, she knew that a key was final confirmation of companion status. Right now she could still just be a quick passerby, an acquaintance, gone as soon as he got bored of her. She sighed. This was a decision he'd have to come to on his own, not a topic she could bring up and press him with. If she'd learned anything it was that the Doctor did not like being pressured.

"Hey now, what's wrong with you, eh?"

She turned—the Doctor was looking at her, one hand still frozen in mid air over his game. His face had gone from relaxed and unconcerned to puzzled; his brow was furrowed, one eyebrow impossibly raised over the other, his mouth left hanging open. She had to smile—it was fun to be with him just for his expressions. She could always tell what he was thinking, partly because of the fact that he was extremely bad at hiding emotions and partly because of her familiarity with his history from watching the show. When they had first started traveling he would be so quiet and watch her when he thought she wasn't looking. If she asked, he said it was nothing, but she knew he was trying to get the image of Rose out of his head. A week later, though, he seemed convinced of her vast dissimilarity to Rose and had stopped….or perhaps he had merely gotten better at hiding it.

"It's nothing! Really, I'm fine," she answered, but clearly this was not a convincing response. He jumped up and walked over to her.

"What, are you bored? Am _I _boring you? Or is it ol' Conan Doyle here?" He stretched out a hand to flip to the cover of her book and gave it a withering stare. "Cheeky devil, he was. And I won't have anyone giving me a bad name! People have said many things about me, but I defy anyone to say that I'm boring!"

He grinned one of his sideways grins, his brows raised eagerly. She laughed. He was such a performer, such a little kid most of the time—he was always playing a jester, hoping to please. And he hadn't failed yet to make her laugh.

"We-ell, if you're bored, perhaps it's time for another adventure! Shall we call up on ol' Doyle, then? It's been a while since I've seen him. Last time I had to take care of an alien hound that had run amok and I accidentally gave him an idea for a novel. And he didn't even credit me, which I thought was quite rude!" He had walked away and was starting to press switches, turn wheels and check screens. Sarah had started to think that at least a quarter of this running about was for show, but she didn't question him.

"You know what? I've had an idea. Go up to the wardrobe and get dressed in something appropriate for a posh 19th century party! This'll be brilliant!" He laughed as he swung around the hub.

She blinked. He turned to look at her, still where he had left her. "Well, go on then! Get out of it!" He grabbed her arm and dumped her by the foot of the stairs that led to the wardrobe. "Go on then!"

She grinned and walked up the steps, down the hallway and into the wardrobe. It was absolutely massive. It was categorized by era and planet, and she had no idea how much it housed.

"State desired clothing parameters," a voice said. She jumped. The wardrobe was addressing her.

"Er, 19th century, Earth, England, fancy party dresses?" She said. The wardrobe flew into action and clothing whizzed past her in a rush, then jerked to a halt. In front of her was an assortment of gorgeous dresses, all swaying from the recent activity. She had no idea where to start—how was she to know what would make her look fashionable?—but settled on picking a dress that would make her feel comfortable. She reached for a silk dress in midnight blue. It had a boat neckline, bell sleeves, an embroidered corset and a full draped skirt. It was gorgeous. As soon as she had touched it the other dresses swung away and the chosen dress fell into her hands. She dressed quickly and then looked in the full length mirror to her left. Her hair, messily tied up with an elastic, looked out of place. She took out the elastic and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She fluffed it out with her fingers and shrugged—it would have to do. She wasn't exactly up to recreating 19th century elaborate hairstyles. She returned downstairs, trying not to stumble over the skirt.

When she had finished navigating the steps—it took a while as she knew she was a klutz and didn't feel like demonstrating this once again—she looked around for the Doctor. He swallowed, coughed, and looked quickly away from her.

"Er, you look nice. Nearly there, now!" He wasn't looking at her, and this time she wasn't sure why.

"You look good, too!" She grinned, trying to return the mood to normality. While she was upstairs he had somehow managed to find an appropriate tuxedo and some shiny black shoes. "Now all you need is one of those jeweled walking canes!"

Despite himself, he laughed, then cleared his throat and put on a mock-serious expression. "Now then, we're going to be living it up with fancy Victorian folk! We have to be civilized!"

The TARDIS began to groan, signaling that they'd arrived. "Come on, then!" He proffered his arm in an extra formal manner, and then said in his best posh voice: "Let us go and have a mahr-velous time!" They managed to walk about five feet outside the door of the TARDIS before breaking down in a fit of laughter.

"Shhh! We're being serious!" Sarah admonished as they walked into the door of a regal Victorian house, with white marble flooring, high ceilings and packed with colorfully dressed guests.

"Look, there's Doyle now!" The Doctor whispered, pointing at a man in a dark suit and a top hat to their left. "Ooh, look! Dancing!"

"Now Doctor, you're the only person I know here! Please don't wander off with some gorgeous Victorian girl and leave me all by myself!" Sarah said, only to turn and find that the Doctor had done just that. He turned to grin and wave and her, and she rolled her eyes. _Oh well, _she though, _knew that would happen! He's too popular for his own good! _

As she had always been a bit of a wall flower, she headed towards the back of the room, where there were fewer guests, and leaned up against a marble column. From here she had a good view of the Doctor and laughed as he switched dance partners, clearly enjoying himself. She too was having a good time, a shy girl living vicariously through the laughter of one that was much more outgoing, until she felt a sharp prick at the base of her neck. Then the room went dark.


	5. In Which a Dream Turns Into a Nightmare

_Chapter Five: In Which a Dream Turns Into a Nightmare_

_The Doctor was laughing, swinging a pretty girl around the room. It had been a long time since he'd had this much fun. He looked around for Sarah, thinking that she should live a little and get out on the dance floor, when he realized she was no longer where he'd left her. One second she was smiling, leaning against a pillar, and the next second she was gone. He stopped immediately, to the consternation of his dance partner, but he waved her away and tore off the dance floor. _

_ "Sarah! SARAH!" He shouted, looking for her among the sea of people, but he knew he wouldn't find her there. Someone had taken her, and that person would be sorry._

Sarah woke up and was pleased to see that this time she wasn't in a cell, at least. She had ended up on a sofa somewhere far away from the party. She could hear the revelry, but just barely. How big _was _this house? She sat up, shaking her head experimentally and rubbing her neck where she'd been pricked. It was sore, but didn't seem to be at all permanently damaged. The room was small, adorned with garish floral wallpaper and a vanity. She guessed this was someone's dressing room. She got up—slowly, as she was feeling dizzy—to check the door. It was locked, of course.

_Damn, _she thought. _How am I going to get out of this one? _Even if she could get out, it was going to be a little difficult to do any running in this huge dress.

"Did you really think the door would be unlocked? I'm usually held to higher standards. I must try harder, clearly." Someone spoke from the corner of the room. She whipped around to see that a short man, around the age of 50, had appeared.

She backed away, and ended up pressed against the door. "Who are you? Why have you stuck me in here?" She asked. Her voice was shaking slightly. There was something about the man that disturbed her. Well, besides the fact that he'd drugged her and locked her in a room.

"Ooh, come now! I had thought you would know all about me! You have seen the show, haven't you?" He answered, his features darkening as he moved out of the light.

Her eyes widened. "Seen the show? How could you-" and she stopped, and closed her eyes, trying to will him away. She knew who he was now.

He laughed evilly. "Ah, so I did make a mark. Good to know my performance was a hit."

They both turned to the door—someone was calling for a girl named Sarah.

"I see we have company. I should go greet my new guest. This will be so much fun, won't it?" He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed, his mouth curled into a smirk. "Such a new companion, yet already such dark dreams…" And he disappeared, leaving Sarah alone again.

The Doctor was running down a hallway, feeling panicked. The longer he looked, the more he was convinced that Sarah had ended up with someone dangerous, and probably not of her own accord.

_"SARAH!" _he shouted again, ripping open doors, finding them either empty or filled with shocked inhabitants. He did not care about making a scene. Someone was going to pay if they hurt the girl whose safety he was in charge of.

"Ah, the Doctor. How nice to see you again." A voice spoke from behind him.

He whipped around to see someone unpleasantly familiar. The Dream Lord was standing in the hallway, looking smug. "Where have you taken Sarah?" He growled, not in the mood for the Dream Lord's usual games.

"Impatient, are we? How sad. I thought you were always up for a laugh." He was walking slowly towards the Doctor, who stood his ground with clenched fists. "Such sad dreams. All the people you've lost, the innocent lives you've ended, your lost love Rose….and hang on a moment! There seems to be a new contender in there! Developing a thing for blondes, are we?"

"Tell me where she is," he repeated, ignoring the Dream Lord's taunting and taking out his sonic screwdriver.

He raised his hands mockingly. "Ooh, a screwdriver! I'm scared! What are you going to do, shine a blue light at me? Really. I think you need to play a little game with me…and you don't have a choice, do you? Sweet dreams…"

The face of the Dream Lord swam hazily over him as the Doctor fell, suddenly faint, and collapsed on the floor. Nearby, Sarah had also collapsed, ending up in a heap of blue silk in the tiny room. Laughter rang in the hallway and the Dream Lord disappeared, leaving his new victims to their fate.

Sarah woke up with a horrible headache. She rubbed her eyes, hoping that she could convince the Doctor to make her a cup of tea. Usually, food related responsibilities fell to her as he was prone to forgetting meals. She opened her eyes and saw a white ceiling, and not the metal ceiling of the TARDIS. She bolted upright and looked around. She was in her flat, in her tiny bed with a floral duvet. She turned and saw her desk. There was her bulletin board, covered with her drawings, one of which was a portrait of the Doctor…who was just a character on a TV show. Nothing she'd experienced over the past week had been real. She thought she was going to scream.


	6. In Which Reality is a Lie

_Chapter Six: In Which Reality is a Lie_

_"This cannot be happening! That was real!"_

_ A voice answered her from the darkness. "What is reality, anyway? Is it the TARDIS? That's all a dream come true, isn't it? For the Girl who Dreamed…which is more plausible? The Doctor…or this?"_

Sarah sat on her bed, trying to breathe deeply and prevent herself from hyperventilating. She had to figure out a way to fix this. There _had _to be a way to fix this, hadn't there?

Or maybe she was wrong. Maybe she'd just woken up from a fantastically realistic dream. Then what was she doing with all of these memories…of the Doctor, of the TARDIS, of the Daleks, of adventures…but there sat her drawings, obstinately reminding her that she was just a silly fan. Just a girl with an overactive imagination.

She rose and walked slowly to her computer, looking at her bulletin board again. Everything looked exactly as she'd left it…except for a red post-it. She picked it up. It read "URGENT! Essay for Professor Smith due 04/05/12!" She couldn't remember having a professor named Smith. She consulted her schedule, which was also posted on her board. There it was, English, at 12:00 with Professor John Smith. She let out her breath slowly—she hadn't realized she'd been holding it. This was a slim chance, but she was going to take it. She pulled on a pair of jeans and some sneakers, grabbed her keys and sprinted out the door.

Fifteen minutes later she'd arrived outside the English department, panting. She had run the entire way, nearly knocking down students on their way to class and terrifying some birds. Class had already started—it was 12:35—but she decided it was best if she waited until after class to do this. She caught her breath and walked slowly to the door of her classroom. She peeked in and saw a huge lecture hall filled with sleepy students…and a professor that had a remarkable likeness to David Tennant. She whipped her head back and leaned next to the door, out of sight. Twenty five minutes until the end of class. Then she would have an answer.

John Smith had found himself standing at the head of a lecture hall, completely lost as to how he'd gotten there. He looked around. Seventy students were staring at him expectantly. He was a doctor, not a professor…no, hang on, he _was _a professor. Professor John Smith of English Literature. And he was talking about Chaucer. Right. That was right. Wasn't it?

"Er, sorry about that class. I seem to have lost my train of thought. What was I saying? Ah, right, well, please study what your textbook has to say about _Canterbury Tales _for the remainder of the class, with a discussion at the end."

The class stopped staring at him and turned to their books. He sat down, running a hand through his hair. He had the strangest dream last night…something about a time machine, and space, and a girl…Sarah. He looked around at the class, but couldn't find her. Sarah was his student and could usually be found in the second row, but her seat was empty. Where was she? And why had she been in his dream?

By the end of class Professor Smith was feeling like his usual self. He was able to lead a discussion with the class without incurring too many mistakes, and let them out at 1. He felt oddly relieved to have the class over. As time passed his dream seemed less and less real, but he still couldn't shake that feeling…

He collected his briefcase and walked out of the classroom, only to run into his missing student, Sarah.

"Well, hello Sarah! You weren't in class today, were you? What's the matter? Feeling ill?" Yes, he was feeling quite back to normal. He'd hardly even started at the sudden appearance of his companion—or, rather, his student.

"Professor Smith? I…can I ask you something?"

Sarah's hands were shaking. This was more difficult than she'd thought—as she'd stood, waiting for class to end, the dream had ebbed further and further away. It seemed ridiculous now. Professor Smith was her teacher, nothing more, and Doctor Who was a TV show. But she convinced herself to cling to the heart wrenching panic she'd felt when she woke up two hours ago. It had seemed critical to come here, to do this, and she had to trust herself. Even if it meant making a horrible fool of herself if she was wrong.

"Well, of course! Are you alright? You look pale," Professor Smith replied, his brow creasing.

"I have something really, really strange to ask you. And please just bare with me….but did you wake up today and not know where you were? Did you have a strange dream? And did that dream include me?" She asked, slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. He had withdrawn and his was smooth and impassive. Her next words came out in a rush, hoping to cut off a response of _you're crazy_. "Please, please, I know this seems insane. But I had the most vivid dreams and I can't bare it if they're not true. Just tell me if you dreamed about me too. Please," she begged, willing him to understand her.

Professor Smith looked away and raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. It struck Sarah as horribly familiar from her adventures with him, from hanging out on the TARDIS—or was it familiar because of Doctor Who?

"Well…I suppose you could say I had some strange dreams, yes. And you might have turned up. Why…did you dream about time travel as well?" He finally turned to look at her, and she recognized the vague panic in his face that she was sure was in her own. That horrible feeling that you had gone insane and no one would ever believe you again.

She sighed. "Oh, thank God. I was so afraid it was just me. I had these dreams…and I think they're not really dreams…and have you ever seen Doctor Who? It would make explaining this much easier…" She took the blank look on his face as a no. "Never mind. Anyway, I have an idea, and it's really crazy. I think we need to go to Cardiff. I know, I'm insane, but please hear me out. If those were memories, and not dreams, I just have to know." She looked away and her eyes went out of focus, thinking of other things. "After those dreams, I can't bare that this is all there is…I have to see if there really is something else out there. If _we _really are out there. Please. Be crazy with me." She looked back at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

For a second she thought that he would refer her to the school psychiatrist, but then his face broke out in a grin. "Well, I always did like Cardiff, anyway! My car's outside. Follow me!"

And he strode off down the hallway. She looked after him, feeling hopeful for the first time, and then ran to catch up with him. That smile had seemed so familiar, and she knew it wasn't just a dream. Right?


	7. In Which Friends are Introduced

_Chapter Seven: In Which Friends Are Introduced_

_Author's Note: Sarah and the Doctor have turned up at Sarah's university in Canterbury, so driving to Cardiff is not unfeasible, just long._

Sarah was sitting in the passenger seat of Professor Smith's car, on the way to Cardiff. Or, rather, the Doctor's car. She was having trouble calling him the Doctor at the moment—he was so timid now, so introverted, and so little like the Doctor she knew. Or that she _thought _she knew. She was always aware of the fact that she might be wrong. Perhaps she had just had vivid dreams, and Professor Smith was either humoring her or was equally crazy.

The trip was proving to be an awkward one, at least for Sarah. She felt the tension between them was palpable, and she was aware of every inch that separated them. She had squished herself into a ball, as close to the door of the car as possible. Whether or not this man would prove to be the Doctor eventually, he was not that man now and she couldn't get herself to feel comfortable. Every fiber of her being was screaming that this man was a professor, should be a sensible distance away from her, and should not be spoken to in an informal manner. Certainly she should not be traveling across the country with him!

She snuck a look to her right, where Professor Smith was calmly driving away. For his part, he didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest. She turned away again to look out the window. This was going to be a long ride.

"So, what's the Doctor like, anyway?"

She turned to look at him. He glanced over, smiled ruefully, and then turned back to the road. "If I'm going to be this Doctor person, or if I already am, I should know about him, shouldn't I?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, he's a bit difficult to describe, really…" she said evasively. Suddenly it felt as if the Doctor was a personal subject, hers alone, and she couldn't share it with him. But she could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eye and she finally turned to meet his gaze.

"You could try, couldn't you? You've always been a very bright student. I can't imagine your descriptive skills have suddenly abandoned you." He smiled, and she relaxed slightly. He wasn't yet the Doctor, but she was starting to unwind a bit.

"Well, basically, the Doctor is a time lord. And he's from a planet called Gallifrey where there used to be a whole race of time lords…but there was a war, and they all died. He's the only one left. And he's about 900 years old and doesn't really die, he just regenerates into a new man, but still essentially the same person. And he travels through time, having adventures and fixing problems that he's able to affect." She was looking out the window, drawing on what she knew without really thinking.

She turned back to him—Professor Smith's face had hardened somewhat. She couldn't read the look in his eyes. "So he's 900 years old…and he's alone?" There was a deadness in his voice now.

"I…well, in a way." She was treading on unsteady ground, now—what should she tell him that would comfort him, while still giving him the truth? "In the sense that there are no more time lords, yes. Well, besides the Master, he's a time lord, but he's not exactly your friend."

She turned again, anxious this time. She felt she wasn't describing the Doctor's life very well—Professor Smith looked less and less sure of adopting this life over the one that seemed so real right now. Surely his life as a professor must be easier; no planets to save, no lives to affect, no huge responsibility on his shoulders.

Professor Smith was still staring blankly out at the road. Finally, he spoke. "Is this Doctor a good man?"

A small smile crept across her face. "Yes. The Doctor is a good man. He's the best man. He chooses to lead this lonely life across the universe when he could have given up long ago, and wallow in depression or his own ego. But instead he spends his time helping anyone, anywhere, in any galaxy. And half the time they never even know who he is to thank him."

He finally broke out of his reverie to turn to her, and for the first time since entering the car she could smile a true, wide smile. "If there's anything I'm sure of, it's of him."

He seemed to consider her for a second, and then returned her smile. "Right. Well, good." He turned back to the road. "And he's not entirely alone though, is he? Do people travel with him?"

She nodded. "Yes, I think the Doctor almost always has a companion. I suppose it must be hard to travel though time and space and not be able to share your experiences with anyone."

"And…you're his companion, then?"

She frowned, and blushed slightly. "Well, sort of. I guess I am? It's kind of a nebulous issue right now. I've only been traveling with him for a week. We don't even know each other that well. All he really knows is my name. And I don't even know his…" She was looking out of the window again, and this time it was Professor Smith's turn to read an enigmatic expression.

"Well, that seems about right, doesn't it? You're my student, but I hardly know you. So, nice to meet you. I'm John Smith. Possibly the Doctor, we're not quite sure on that one."

She turned to see his boyish grin return, and she had to laugh. It was so good to see _him, _the Doctor, come out in Professor Smith's features.

"So, I see that this Doctor has been quite negligent in your…well, I suppose _our, _relationship. It seems you know everything about me and I know nothing about you."

"Er…seems that way, doesn't it?" It was a weird statement to make, but a very obvious one. Possibly it struck her as odd for the simple fact that considering that _she _could be important was a strange concept.

"So tell me about yourself."

"Me? There's really not much to tell, honestly."

"Come on then, humor me. At least try! It's going to be a really long ride if we have nothing to talk about. And it seems that I am lacking knowledge in no area except for yours."

"I…well then. Um. I'm American, obviously, and I'm from Staten Island. I have two younger sisters that drive me crazy, but I love them. My parents are divorced, and my mom is about to get married again. Umm…that's about it, really. I don't think there's anything else to tell."

"Did you notice, Sarah," he said, turning to her with a slightly amused smirk, "that in that entire description you said absolutely nothing about you personally? And I mean you as a person, not the people that you are related to."

She gaped, then smiled ruefully. "I swear, you're not missing out on much. I'm not that interesting. Oh, look! I just saw a sign for Cardiff! I think we're nearly there!"

Clearly Professor Smith saw right through her pathetic attempt to redirect the conversation, but he didn't press her on it. Evidently he wasn't the only one with painful subjects.

"So, this is the team then. You and me, alone against the universe. Right?" He looked out at the road again. "It seems like a lonely life."

Sarah turned, opening her mouth to reassure him, and then shut it. The life of the Doctor was not an easy one, but she could not force him into it. He had to choose it himself. And now that she considered it, it seemed an impossible choice to make. But this world, this universe, needed a Doctor around. And he had to be it. A companion however….she turned back to the window and smiled wryly at her reflection. Well, companions come and go. When you watched Doctor Who you knew two things— that the Doctor was a good man, and that the companions never last. She had no idea how long she could stay with him. As she watched the English countryside speed past her, she thought of the panic she'd experienced this morning, realizing that she had to return to her mundane life. Now she felt more relaxed, knowing that they were going to get things back to normal, or at least try. But what will happen when the Doctor leaves her, as he will inevitably do? It would be back to normal, and nothing would ever be the same. When you run with the Doctor all companions feel like it will never end, but no companion has been like Sarah— one that knows everyone that's come before her, and all their sad endings. One that knows her time must one day come to an end. Her time was limited and it frightened her, but she squashed the tightening in her chest with a deep breath. However long she'd run, she would make it the best damn run of her life.

"Ah, I think I've seen another sign for Cardiff. Nearly there, now!"


	8. In Which a Decision is Made

_Chapter Eight: In Which A Decision Is Made_

They were quiet now, the Professor and his student. Night had fallen and Cardiff was devoid of people. Finally, they stopped at a corner. It was entirely unassuming; nothing about it looked out of order, or like there should be a crack in time and space here, but Sarah knew it was the right place. For one, she recognized it from the show, and for another there was some sort of energy in the air…something was not quite normal.

They got out of the car. No one was around. "I…well, this was my one guess to figure this out. This is where the crack is and if we were going to find anything out it would have to be here. I'm sorry…" She couldn't bear to look at him and see his expression—would he be disappointed, or incredulous, or angry with her for wasting his time?

"Well, tell me about your childhood." He had stepped in front of her, to intercept her gaze, and smiled kindly.

"I- what?"

"Seems like we've got some time, don't we?"

She smiled, relieved. At least he wasn't angry with her. "I swear, there's nothing much to tell you. I'm not interesting in the slightest."

"Oh, but that's not at all true, dear Sarah," said a voice from behind them. "The Girl who Dreamed has the darkest of secrets and I know them all…and I haven't even started on the Doctor."

They turned—behind them was the Dream Lord, who stepped out of the darkness looking malicious. "So you've found me, then? How boring. I was hoping it would take you a little longer. Not that it matters." He stepped closer to the Professor and smiled evilly. "To defeat me, you have to believe in yourself. And I don't think you have the guts."

Sarah looked between the professor and the Dream lord, her heart hammering.

"I mean," the Dream Lord began again, aloofly examining his fingernails, "a time lord? _You? _Regardless of whether it's true, do you really have the confidence?"

"Professor…I mean, _Doctor, _you can't listen to him. I _know _you have this in you. And I know _you,_" She begged, looking up into his face. It had gone blank and withdrawn, but he turned at her words. He looked back at the Dream Lord.

"I am the Doctor." He said simply. She wanted so much to believe him, but she could see it flickering in him, like a guttering flame. Any strong wind and it would go out, and she had a feeling that the Dream Lord was all too willing to provide that wind.

"Ooh, good deduction! Alright then, you're the Doctor. You got me." The Dream Lord clapped sarcastically. "But let's talk about this dream then, shall we? Because the bravery issue still stands. You dreamed up all of this, Doctor. Don't blame me for creating it. This is the Doctor's secret dream life!" He cackled, making a sweeping gesture at the empty street around them. "No one to save. No mean old aliens to defeat. No huge responsibilities. This is the life that the Doctor secretly wishes for…" Professor Smith had frozen, his jaw locked in a grimace. It seemed that the Dream Lord was hitting a nerve.

"And then there's dear old Sarah here, isn't there?" Unexpectedly, the Dream Lord turned to her with another creepy smile. "I bet you're wondering why she's here, aren't you? Oh, come then, it's not difficult. You didn't want to leave her out of this little perfect life, did you? Couldn't bear to have her away from you. Lovely Sarah, who you've come to adore over such a short period of time…but isn't it interesting that you've made her your _student? _So typical of you, Doctor. Shall I tell you why? This way you can stay close to her but always remain in control of the situation and, most interestingly, keep her a safe distance away from you. Now, why is _that, _I wonder…" The Dream Lord had almost seemed to entrance Professor Smith, and neither broke their gaze, but the Dream Lord was creeping closer and closer to Sarah. She could feel him step nearer behind her and she shivered. Over her shoulder, he said "Is it because you want to protect her from yourself? Or is it because you feel the need to deny yourself the things that love?"

She moved away from the Dream Lord, feeling as if she had to pull herself away from some awful magnetism, a terrible black hole of nightmares, and stood in front of the Professor. Inwardly, she was reeling at what the Dream Lord said. For one, this dream seemed such a horrible nightmare for her that it was hard to believe it had come from the Doctor. For another, she was trying to prevent herself from reacting to everything he had said about her relationship with the Doctor, because it was too much for her to take in right now. She focused instead on what mattered most—getting the Doctor back. She blocked his view from the Dream Lord and took hold of his upper arms, resisting the urge to shake him out of hiding in the Professor's life. Because as she looked at his face she knew that it was the Professor that looked back at her, and not the Doctor. He looked stunned, and couldn't meet her gaze. He seemed to be shrinking inwards, as if he no longer wanted to face his problems and set things straight. He seemed lost and confused and so utterly human.

"Listen to me," she said, turning his face to hers. His eyes were unfocused, and frightened. "You _are _the Doctor. And the Doctor is always strong, always in control, and always knows what to do. _You _are that man. I believe in you, Doctor, and I need you to believe in yourself. _Please._ Come back to me."

It seemed that she had said the right words. For a second his brow furrowed and he looked lost, and then his eyes hardened. He looked into Sarah's face, which was creased with worry and concern, but also trust. He could not have regained the Doctor's persona if not for the need of his companion. Without someone to need him it was too easy to stay safe in this boring world that would never ask him to risk his life, save everyone and spend his time alone. This world would never ask him to watch his friends die around him or to say goodbye to a true love because she could spend her life with him but he could never spend his. This world didn't ask anything of him, but she did. She needed him. And with that, the Doctor returned.

He straightened, and Sarah let him go. She desperately hoped that she had triggered the right memories, and that he would know what to do now.

"Right." he said. "Come on, take my hand. Let's go find some traffic to run into!"

She stared at him, aghast. "What? That's your brilliant plan? Kill ourselves? What are you— Doctor!" He had grabbed her hand and raced away, ignoring the Dream Lord who seemed inexplicably angry all of a sudden. She could hear the echoes of his scream recede behind them as they ran. As they got further and further away there was no traffic to be found and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief….until she saw the bridge. "No. Doctor, please! How could this possibly be the solution? What are you doing?" He half dragged her to the middle of the bridge and helped her to climb up on the barrier. He turned his head to look at her.

"Sarah, this is the only way. To prove that we know this is a dream, we have to kill ourselves and then we'll wake back up on the TARDIS." He looked at her, his face set, his eyes determined. She opened her mouth to protest— to ask what would happen if they had guessed wrong and this _was_ reality— when he interrupted her thoughts. "Trust me. I'm the Doctor."

She closed her eyes and smiled. Those were the words she'd needed to hear. Then she nodded. "Alright then. You jump, I jump, Jack."

He grabbed her hand more tightly and grinned. "Aww, come on now, I finally remember who I am and you go and call me another name? Blimey!"

And they jumped.

Sarah was lying on something cold and metal. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes—she'd had the worst sleep and her first instincts were to crawl under a blanket somewhere. Then someone called her name.

"Sarah….come on now. Wake up."

She grimaced and rolled over, meeting more hard metal flooring. "Five more minutes, please…." But that wasn't the voice of her mother, or a flat mate, or any voice she'd ever known on earth. It was a voice that was unfamiliar and yet comfortingly old at the same time. She opened her eyes.

The Doctor was kneeling over her, his expression half concerned and half expectantly pleased. The ceiling above them was cast in a yellow light, with blue paneling and cords crisscrossing to who knew where. She bolted upright. This was the TARDIS. And this was her home. _"Doctor!"_ She shouted as they flung arms around each other.


	9. In Which a Companion is Made

_Chapter Nine: In Which a Companion is Made_

The next morning Sarah woke up, pleased to find herself in the same bed she had fallen asleep in the night before. It seemed a trivial thing, but what with her recent experiences it was something to be thankful for. She sat up and stretched. She was in the TARDIS's guest bedroom, which was somewhere off the library and in the vicinity of the pool. The room was medium sized and housed mismatched furniture: an ancient-looking dresser made of oak wood with a gilded ivy design, a bedside table that was made of iron and seemed to have been ripped from some old space ship, and the bed which was queen sized and sunk into the center of the floor. Currently the bed was a mess of pillows and blankets, and the soft mattress impeded her attempts to escape the sheets. She pulled herself to the edge of the bed, where there was a small step up to meet the floor boards. In front of her dresser was a heaped pile of blue silk. When she'd returned to the TARDIS, finally released from the dream, she had found herself back in the clothing she'd worm before she left; i.e. the blue silk dress. It was all she could do to strip herself of the dress, haul on pajamas and crawl into bed. She had wanted to put the dream far behind her, and sleep had seemed the best solution.

She rose, yawning, and began to rummage through the dresser for clothing. As she'd never had time to return home and pack some clothing, she had taken pieces that she liked from the huge wardrobe and packed them into her dresser. As a consequence, the dresser contained and odd selection, such as a pretty Victorian lace shirt next to a 25th century shiny, draped top and a simple cotton tank top. As she was rummaging through the options, she heard her name called followed by an abrupt creek of her door.

"Sarah! Oh, Sarah! Sar—oops." The Doctor had opened the door to see her turn, surprised and mildly embarrassed. Fortunately she was dressed in her sleep things—a white tank top and pale blue shorts—but it wasn't a sight she had ever cared to grace him with. "Eheh. I'll knock next time, shall I?" He shut the door quickly, then called through the wood. "Just come out when you're ready! I have a surprise for you!"

She shook her head—it was too early for this sort of thing. She dressed quickly, having decided on a comfortable black turtle neck sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, and exited her bedroom. She found her way to the TARDIS's main room without too many wrong turns—it _was _a very confusing place to navigate—and found the Doctor leaning against the heart of the TARDIS, looking pleased with himself, and hiding something behind his back.

She had been absently detangling her hair with her fingers but stopped at his expression. If the Doctor was pleased with himself it could mean something very, very fun or something quite terrifying. She narrowed her eyes. "If you're going to suggest that we go hunt some rare alien thingy on a planet halfway across the galaxy, you're going to need to wait until I've had a cup of tea." Sarah was not pleasant in the mornings until she'd had at least one cup of tea, sometimes two.

She walked over to sit at her preferred seat—the pile of cords—and heard the Doctor follow eagerly behind her.

"No, it's not that, come on now! Guess! You're going to lo-ove it!" He said in a sing-song voice, still hiding something behind his back.

"So it's a cup of tea, then?" She said, in a mock chipper voice.

"Aww, you're no fun!" He brought his hands out from behind his back and held two fists up to her. "Pick one!"

She laughed; it was hard not to when a 900 year old time lord was standing in front of you looking as eager as a 3 year old with candy. She pondered, then picked the right fist.

"_Ehhhh! _Wrong! Guess again." He opened the fist, to reveal an empty palm.

"Well, hmm, whatever shall I pick?" She laughed, and pointed at his left fist.

"And wrong again! Wow, you're rubbish at this, aren't you?" He waved both empty palms at her, grinning.

She half frowned, half laughed. "Well, what then?"

Instead of answering he leaned toward her and pretended to grope around in her hair, then removed his hand to reveal a long metal chain ending in…a small key. A key to the TARDIS. She looked at him, almost afraid to be excited or accept it, as if it would be yanked back from her.

"I—what?" She stammered.

He took the chain and put it over her head, where the key rested on her chest, and smiled. "I may have forgotten myself as Professor Smith, but I haven't forgotten my experiences, and our discussions. I think if that horrible trip taught me anything it was that I should keep you around for a while." He held his hand out and grinned. "So, what do you say? Be my companion and run away on mad, extremely dangerous adventures!"

She blinked, and then grinned back and took his hand, giving him a formal shake. "I'd say you have yourself a companion!"

"Ah, come here then!" He laughed and hugged her. He then released her and started fiddling about with controls. "So, where shall we go next? How about going a bit forward in time! You haven't done that yet, have you? Well, besides the Daleks, but that wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs. Let's see…ooh, I know! How about the Ka-liudra planet in the Heridian galaxy? I had some fun times there. Once a huge giualdra— er, kind of a big beetle-beast thing—was terrorizing a town and I had to…" He stopped at the look on her face. She had crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow. "Uh, but we won't do anything like that today! Actually I think they have some sort of a huge outdoor market that's very popular. You could have a look around there, if you like, and we'll leave the beasties for another day, shall we?"

She smiled. "Much better."

"Well, alright then! Allons-y!" He shouted, swinging around to spin a wheel and pull a lever.

Sarah looked down and picked up the key that was resting on her shirt. She felt as if she could relax now. This key meant that the Doctor could no longer just decide to abandon her back on Earth at the drop of the hat—she was officially a companion now. It was sort of like casually dating a guy that she hadn't known where she stood with, when he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. And then she blushed, because that was not an analogy she really wanted to think too deeply into. She did _not _have a crush on the Doctor, she assured herself, looking over at the thin man that was running in circles around the hub. She just occasionally appreciated his hair. And his deep brown eyes. And maybe his long, pale fingers…

The TARDIS started to make the familiar warping noise and she was jolted out of her reverie. "Alright, then! Off we go!" The Doctor held his arm out to Sarah, grinning, and then noticed her expression. "Are you alright? Your face looks red—you don't have a fever, do you?" He reached over to brush her forehead, looking concerned, but she moved away and smiled a little wider than was normal.

"Um, nope! Totally fine! Let's go let's go!" She tore out the door, and it was all the Doctor could do to catch sight of a mess of blonde hair before she had disappeared out the door. He shook his head, feeling confused, but followed out after her.


	10. In Which Moods Turn Sour

_Chapter 10- In Which Moods Turn Sour_

The Doctor caught up with Sarah easily, as she had stopped dead in her tracks. He smirked, pleased with himself. "It's good, eh?"

"It's…_amazing._" The planet was almost entirely green, from a thick carpet of grass underfoot to huge trees that created a canopy above them. They seemed to have landed in some sort of forest city, with shops hanging from low branches and steps carved into the trunks that spiraled up father than she could see. Shopkeepers were calling invitingly from behind stalls, gesturing with clawed fingers, grinning toothy smiles and wiggling pointed, furred ears. Sarah was about to run forward and immerse herself in the commotion, but was held back. The Doctor had caught her arm, and was looking at her with a stern, and quite fatherly, expression.

"Now, hold on a moment. This time we're going to do this my way, right? You're going to stay very close to me. No wandering off! I don't want you getting kidnapped again!"

She gaped. "How is staying close to you going to help anything? If you'll remember, Oh Most Clever One, the first time I was kidnapped I was standing right next to you. Proximity to you certainly didn't help anything. _And _I then saved myself and you to boot, thank you very much!" She could see he was about to protest, but she spoke over him. "And _last _time I asked _you_ to stay close to _me_ and you instead ran off with the first pretty girl that grabbed your hand! Whose fault was that one, huh?"

The stern look had faded, and the Doctor looked embarrassed. He cleared his throat and attempted to regain his composure. "Yes, well, I still think you should stay by me. It's my TARDIS and my rules. So….there. Now, let's go and have some fun, shall we?" He looked away from her and walked forward. She followed a pace behind him, shaking her head. His forcibly erect posture indicated that he was trying a little too hard to appear in control of the situation. Well, it didn't matter much anyway. It wasn't like she'd planned on running off anywhere.

They walked along a path that had been tamped down by years of foot traffic and looked at the stalls. Sarah desperately wanted to adopt one of the beautifully plumed birds on gilded perches, and would have certainly purchased a beautiful leather bound book from one seller, had she been able to understand the language it was written in. As Sarah walked she felt the Doctor's gaze on her back always. He was walking a little behind her, hands clasped behind his back, acting like some sort of body guard. She had no idea why he'd suddenly become so protective. Possibly it was because he was starting to feel a bit rubbish at protecting her, as she'd only been with him a week and had been captured twice. She was a little unnerved by this new attitude; she had not liked arguing with him, and much preferred his cheerful, bouncy disposition to this serious tone he'd replaced it with. She tried to return him to normal by showing him things like a miniature replica of a cat that could walk about in your palm, and a leather belt that could cleverly hide a number of possessions and weapons. He did not react until she gestured to a stall that contained nothing she could recognize—it was filled with advanced technology that she couldn't make any sense of. He brightened, though, and hurried over to look, finally his usual excitable self. She smiled in relief; it was nice to have the Doctor back again. She waited, a little to the side of the stall, for him to finish. Half an hour later she was starting to get bored. She shifted her weight onto her right leg, trying to ignore how sore she was from standing for so long.

"Feeling tired, miss? We could help you with that."

Sarah jumped, startled. A woman had appeared behind her—she had deep purple eyes, a face covered in black fur, and wolf-like ears peeking out from underneath robes of dark blue.

"We have quite an accomplished staff at our spa, miss," The woman continued, in a voice that was almost high and quavering. "It's just over there." She gestured, and Sarah turned to see a brilliantly white tent a few dozen feet away, with more blue robed attendants waiting outside.

"Oh no, I'm fine, really." Sarah replied, but couldn't help a furtive glance at the Doctor. He was still completely distracted, immersed in conversation with the shop keeper.

"I am sure that your friend won't mind, miss." Said the woman, wisely interpreting Sarah's expression. "Come with me, miss. You won't regret it." She gestured towards the tent, smiling invitingly. Sarah tried to ignore the fangs that were revealed in her smile.

"I…" She hesitated, disliking the idea of separating from the Doctor. But suddenly Sarah's mind was filled with rage, and memories of how the Doctor had treated her like an inferior. How _dare _he tell her what to do? He didn't want her to leave his sight, did he? Well, she would show him. She smiled an evil grin that did not suit her features, and turned back to the attendant. "Well, now that you mention it, I do think I could use some pampering. Lead the way!"

She followed behind the attendant as she walked toward the tent. When she was just outside the entrance, she heard her name called from far away. The Doctor had finally noticed her absence and was running toward her, looking panicked. Sarah shook her head, realizing that leaving the Doctor without telling him on an unfamiliar planet was a terrible idea, and turned around to return to him. But she felt a paw on her shoulder and her mind clouded with ideas of rebellion, and independence, and of how oppressive the Doctor was. She stopped walking away and instead smiled cruelly at the Doctor. She waved mockingly before entering the tent and disappearing from sight.

The Doctor was running at full speed towards a white tent in the distance. He had looked away from Sarah for just _one _second and the girl managed to slip away from him… He caught sight of her entering the tent and called out to her. She seemed to turn to him, but then her eyes flashed a dark purple and she smiled with a malice that the Doctor had never seen on her face before. She then disappeared into the tent, and the Doctor gritted his teeth. Something was going on and he was going to find out what. He skidded to a halt at the entrance of the tent and, ignoring the attendants, strode forward and burst into the tent.

Inside, the tent was huge, with silk cloth flooring and draped curtains that divided the tent, and a long hallway lined with doors. The Doctor stormed forward to take hold of Sarah's hand, ignoring the scandalized attendants.

"Come with me, Sarah. I don't trust this. You're not staying here." His voice was loud and commanding. Sarah was jolted at his tone, and recognized it as one that should not be disobeyed.

"Doctor! I…" The Doctor searched her face as she turned to him. Her eyes were out of focus and she looked confused, but then her features resolved into one of loathing. Her eyes narrowed and flashed that strange purple again, and her mouth turned down into a snarl. She snatched her hand away. "And what makes you think that you can tell me what to do? Leave me alone." She turned away from him and walked down the hallway.

"_Sarah! _I don't think you're safe here! Get back—" He tried to follow her, but the attendants—were there more now than there were before?—had swarmed forward to block Sarah from view. He stretched to his tallest height, trying to see where she had gone. He just managed to catch sight of her entering one of the doors off the hallway before he was pushed out of the tent.

He immediately rushed forward to reenter, but was rebuffed by the attendants who swarmed forward and blocked his path with surprising agility.

"I need to get in there," he growled, "and you're not going to stop me."

"Men are not permitted in our establishment, sir." One of the attendants answered, looking up at him with purple eyes. "Please wait for your friend out here. We hope you have a pleasant day."

"No, you see, you've got my _friend _in there and I don't think she's safe. I'm going in there and I'm getting her out!" He ran forward, planning to break their ranks and get into the tent, but found himself pushed back ten feet and almost ended up sprawled on the forest floor.

"Please wait for your friend out here, sir. It is against our rules to allow men into our establishment." The attendant repeated, but he noticed her eyes had narrowed. "Besides, she did not seem to desire your presence. We hope you have a _pleasant _day." Her tone was final, and the attendants folded their arms in unison, blocking the entrance.

The Doctor straightened his suit and glared at the women and the mysterious white tent. He walked away slowly to lean against a tree a short distance away, knowing that he was being watched carefully. It did not concern him. Whoever these women were, they had taken his companion and they would not get away with it. Many had challenged the Doctor in his long life, and no one had yet managed to defeat him. He would wait to make his move. He could be patient.


	11. In Which There Are Secrets

_Chapter Eleven- In Which There Are Secrets_

Night had fallen on Ka-liudra, and the market had closed for the night. The crowds had disappeared, the shops had boarded up, and the only sounds were those of the rustling leaves and nocturnal animals. There was no light except for a glowing yellow gleam coming from the flap of a large white tent, guarded by blue robed attendants. The attendants stood motionless, looking out impassively into the darkness. One turned suddenly, convinced she had seen a light off to her right, but upon further examination she could see nothing. She turned forward again and continued her silent vigil.

A short distance away, the Doctor had lit up his sonic screwdriver. He was feeling his way along the side of the tent, looking for a spot that might be safe to enter. He had waited on the edge of the forest until night had fallen, as the watchful attendants made a daylight break in impossible. He hoped that Sarah was alright, but was worried about what trouble she might have gotten herself into with these mysterious people. _If they had hurt her, _he thought, gritting his teeth. He found a good spot to enter the tent and used the sonic screwdriver to burn a hole into the tent, large enough for him to slip into, and then closed the hole after himself. Crouching low, he found himself in a small supply closet. He crept over to the door and cracked it open, listening to see if anyone was around. _I had better find her safe, _he thought, pressing up against the door, _and if not…they will regret it. _

Nearby, Sarah was lying on a scarlet chaise lounge. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the armrest behind her, and she could feel someone brushing her hair. Her eyes were closed and she felt very tired, as if she could slip off to sleep at any moment. She lay pliant as people moved around her, painting her nails, massaging, exfoliating, and applying makeup. She had this nagging feeling that something was wrong, and that she really needed to leave, but every time she tried to resist someone smiled at her, or put a paw on her shoulder, and she saw a flash of purple and thought no more. They had told her that they were preparing her for a great banquet, or a ceremony, or something like that. It was hard to remember anything. Something was clouding her memory—maybe it was the sweet perfume in the air? She could hardly concentrate. Every now and then she would wonder about the Doctor, and worry that he might want to know where she was, but then she would see purple again and think of how horrible he was and how much better she was doing without him. He was cruel and selfish. Right? That sounded off…wasn't he instead kind and giving? It was hard to remember.

A furred paw handed her a mirror and she looked at her reflection. Her skin was glowing and her hair tumbled down in wavy curls around her face. But something was strange about her eyes…was it the dramatic eye shadow she was wearing? Or was it that her eyes looked darker…and somewhat purple? Her brow furrowed, and she tried to concentrate on what was wrong, but someone touched her shoulder and the mirror slipped from her fingers as she fell asleep.

"Has she made any more protests lately?"

"I thought she suspected too much, so I put her to sleep."

"A wise choice."

The Doctor could hear two women speaking near his hiding spot, so he snuck further behind the door and listened, hoping to hear information to use against them.

"Is the ceremony ready yet?"

"Almost, my lady."

"Good. And guard the door. I don't want any interruptions from that man who burst in earlier."

The Doctor smiled. He did love compliments.

"Her induction shall occur with no problems, my Lady. And should we encounter any, I am sure that our _talents_ will more than take care of him."

"I am sure. Go, guard the entrance. Keep a careful eye."

He could hear their footsteps fade away, and considered what he had heard. _An induction?, _he thought. _What could that mean? _And the talents they spoke of…he had seen them for himself, and they were indeed formidable. It had to be some sort of mind control, but what gave them the power? It _had _to be mind control, for there could be nothing else that would induce Sarah to look at him that way, or to say those things. Could there? He ran his fingers along his scalp and sighed, closing his eyes. He was so old, and though he had done so much good he had also been responsible for so many deaths, so many mistakes…was it possible that someone would finally confront him with his long list of atrocities?

Opening his eyes again, he shook his head. It was no good to worry about such things now. He slipped his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket once more and waved it slowly in front of the door, searching left and right. As it swung to the left, the screwdriver pulsated a brighter blue. He smiled as he slipped it back into his pocket, glad that he had decided to give Sarah a key to the TARDIS today. The key was connected to the TARDIS, and the screwdriver in turn was attuned to the TARDIS. Therefore the screwdriver was able to tell that something connected to the TARDIS was somewhere to his left; Sarah. He slipped out into the hallway and started to make his way toward rescuing his companion.

Sarah woke up and saw a darkened ceiling. Disoriented, she sat up to find herself on a dais in the center of a stage. She was apparently at the heart of some sort of celebration—there was a crowd of blue robed attendants, and behind her were three more women. The center woman wore robes of black, instead of the blue of the rest, and as her fur was black the only things that stood out about her were her narrowed purple eyes and sharp, gleaming fangs.

"Ah, I see that you are awake. And so perfectly dressed for our ceremony. I welcome you to our sisterhood." Said the center woman, grinning in a way that did not seem altogether friendly.

She looked down and saw that somewhere along the way her clothing had been replaced. She was now wearing a long, draped white gown. She shivered. She wasn't sure if it was the temperature, or the chill from the women, or the fact that the gown was sleeveless.

"You will be pleased to know that you have been accepted into our sisterhood. You are here to take part in our induction ceremony. It is a great honor."

She inched away, as people stepped closer to her on all sides. "Um, actually, I think I'm fine! I don't really want to be part of any sisterhood, thanks."

"Oh, but refusal is not an option. Everyone wants to be a part of our sisterhood. And the induction ceremony is so simple…just a bit of a transformation. Just a bit of see, none of us were originally this beautiful Feline race. Except myself, of course." Her eyes flashed purple. "I created a sisterhood and recreated my sisters in my own image. You shall be recreated as well."

"No, honestly, I don't want to be recreated! Not that you ladies aren't beautiful and everything, but please, I'm fine the way I am. You don't want me! I'm awful! Please!" But paws were pushing her down, and fangs were gleaming and eyes glowed purple in the darkness. She fell back onto the dais and felt her hands and legs strapped into restraints.

"Please! No! DOCTOR!" Sarah screamed, struggling against the bindings.

The woman in all black leaned over her and grinned. She had a glowing torch in her hands that flickered with silver flames. She could feel the heat inching closer and closer.

"Don't scream, dear. There's no one here to hear you." There was laughter, and a flash of purple, and then Sarah saw only darkness.


	12. In Which There is a Rescue

_Chapter 12- In Which There is a Rescue_

_Author's note: I'll be in Paris for the next few days, so here's two updates to keep you happy. Wouldn't want to leave you with a cliffhanger. See you soon!_

The Doctor was making his way stealthily along the hallway, but had encountered no one. He hadn't heard anyone, either. He was about to consult his sonic screwdriver again for Sarah's direction when he saw light glowing to his right. He paused, and crept carefully over to it. It lead to a room that housed a single purple crystal. The Doctor grinned.

"Well, this looks rather important, doesn't it?" He said to himself.

"Please! No! DOCTOR!"

He whipped around. The call had come from the hallway, and it sounded close. He turned back to the crystal. There was no time to figure out what it did. He shrugged, found a metal pipe and smashed it. It exploded in a burst of flame, then went dark. He grimaced, and hoped he'd made the right choice. He ran in the direction of the scream, hoping he wasn't too late.

"…there's no one here to hear you," said someone in the darkness.

"Well, you might have spoken too soon."

The Doctor strode into the room, and the crowd of women whipped around. He looked for Sarah and found her on a raised dais, dressed in white robes. She seemed to be unconscious. His expression hardened.

"I believe you have my friend. I'd like her back, if it's all the same to you. And I hope you haven't hurt her. It's in your best interest, really."

A woman looked up. She seemed to be in charge—her robes were black, unlike the blue robed women that surrounded her. She snarled. "Get out," she said, and thrust her arm forward, sending a jet of purple light to the Doctor's forehead. He tried to duck it, but it hit him. He waited for the rush of rage, or compliance, or whatever kept happening to Sarah. But nothing came.

He grinned. "Losing your touch, are you?"

Her eyes widened, and she stood up from Sarah. "I—what is happening?" She looked down at her paws, flexing her claws. Then she straightened, and seemed to regain composure. "Sisters. Please remove this man from this ceremony."

Five women nearest to the Doctor started to advance on him, fangs bared. But as they walked, their claws fell away, and their fur receded. They stopped, examining their hands. All around the tent similar transformations were occurring, revealing women of all races—some snake like, some with tentacles, some with gills, some humanoid. All seemed to be waking up from a trance. The only woman left unaffected was the woman in black, who had staggered. Her eyes filled with terror.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to mention. I smashed a crystal doo-hickey back there. Did you need that?" Said the Doctor, entirely relaxed as the woman clenched her fists in rage.

"My crystal! My sisters!" Cried the woman, but she seemed much less intimidating now.

"Sisters? Oh, I dunno about that. Do you ladies feel much like sisters?" The women turned to look at him, still confused. "I think you probably feel more like…_revenge_."

The women turned slowly away from the Doctor and faced the woman in black.

"No! My sisters, please, get rid of this intruder! We will be glorious! We will increase our ranks!"

The crowd advanced, and the room filled with hissing, growls, and shouts. They reached the woman, who screamed, and dragged her back down onto the floor in front of the stage.

The Doctor began sprinting through the crowd, sensing that the time to escape had arrived. He took out his screwdriver to release Sarah from her restraints, but paused. This was not the Sarah he had left—her hair was gleaming and golden, her lashes black and long, and the dress…well, the dress was a little more form fitting than anything he'd seen her in before. He stood, dazed, until he heard a scream from the crowd. He shook his head and concentrated on the restraints, which unlocked easily. Sarah was still unconscious and he didn't have time to wake her, so he slung her left arm around his shoulder and scooped her up, supporting her at her knees and her upper back. He then sprinted to the back of the stage, hoping to find an exit. Instead, he found the cloth wall of the tent blocking his path. He growled, frustrated, and pointed the sonic screwdriver at it from the hand under Sarah's knees. It blasted a small hole in the tent, until the Doctor shouted in rage and it suddenly burst forth a huge circle of blue light, opening up the side of the tent. As he ran toward the TARDIS, his mind was filled with nothing but a sudden anger. It was not the misplaced rage Sarah had experienced, but a much deeper feeling. He had only just barely saved Sarah, and it killed him that she had been so close to a horrible fate. Sure, he could keep millions of galaxies safe, but he always endangered those closest to him. He looked down at Sarah, who was still unconscious. He was weak. He could not bear to be without a companion, and had found himself once again irrevocably attached to another person. This girl. He could not think of the anguish he would feel if he let another friend be hurt, guilty of one thing only: proximity to himself. It was safer to be alone. But Sarah shifted in her sleep, sighing quietly, and he closed his eyes momentarily. It was useless. He was weak, and he always had been. He could not part from her, and he hated himself for it. He ran on.

Sarah had a terrible headache. It felt as if there was something burning at her temples and she raised her arms to put pressure on them, to do something to ease this pain. Her movement was impeded, however, by a different pressure. She opened her eyes to see that she had been tightly tucked into a bed…but it was with a blanket that she recognized. Her own blanket, in her room on the TARDIS. She sat up, struggling against the constricting sheets, and looked around. Sure enough, she had woken up in the familiar room and had absolutely no recollection of how she'd gotten there. She was about to get up and look for the Doctor, to see if he had an explanation, when she remembered what had happened that day. She gasped as the memories flooded back—cat like women, purple eyes, and horrible, cruel thoughts… Her chest felt cold as she remembered the awful things she had thought about the Doctor, who had been nothing but kind to her. Then she felt panic as she remembered that he had been trying to look for her, and resolved to get up and find him.

She turned, about to climb out of her bed, but caught sight of a brown pinstriped pant leg. She looked behind her to see the Doctor, asleep on a wooden chair. His head had fallen against her dresser, and she could see his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

"Hey," she whispered. He immediately jumped up as if someone had blown a horn in his ear.

"Wha—?" He began, and looked down to see Sarah. "Oh. Hi." He straightened his suit, which had crumpled in his sleep. He seemed a little sheepish—one hand rose to rub the back of his head, and his brow was furrowed.

"How's it going?" She asked, smiling. It was partly a mischievous smile, taking advantage of his sudden display of affection, and partly remorseful for the pain she'd caused him.

"Oh, you know. I just thought this chair looked rather comfortable. Figured I'd stay in here for a bit and keep it company. Chairs get lonely, you know. I speak furniture." He nodded seriously, but sneaked in a smile.

She returned it, but it faded and she looked down. She ran a finger along her left eyebrow—a nervous tick that always indicated that she was nervous—and looked back up at him. "I'm so sorry."

He smiled again, the joking manner fading to be replaced by understanding. "I know. Don't worry about it."

Feeling relieved at being forgiven, she wiggled out a little farther from the covers. "These are some tight sheets! Your doing, I assume?"

He looked embarrassed again, and fiddled with the cuff of a sleeve. "Oh. Sorry. You were unconscious, and I wanted to make sure you were comfortable…" His voice faded out. Sarah had stopped listening anyway—her cheeks had begun to burn as she realized the Doctor had to _carry_ her back to the TARDIS. Did she say something awful in her sleep? Had she been too heavy? What if her shirt had ridden up? She looked down quickly, to check that her clothing was covering everything properly, and was shocked to see what she was wearing. Then she remembered the ceremony—she was still in the white dress, and it was much more body-hugging than she had remembered.

The Doctor, seeing what her gaze had fallen on, coughed and looked away. "Er, yes, well, I promise you it wasn't me that dressed you up like…like that. That was how I found you. I figured it was better to leave you in it than to…well…anyway…"

"It's fine," she said, though she crossed her arms to make sure everything was well covered. "You should go get some sleep. You're probably exhausted, and I think I can manage to avoid kidnap for a little while."

"Yeah? I'm not so sure I believe you," the Doctor replied, grinning, but he got up and stretched. "Well, I'll uh, leave you to it then."

He had reached the door and pulled it open, flooding the room with a streak of light, when he heard Sarah say something. He turned to look and saw that the path of light had fallen on her. She was sitting forward in her bed, her arms wrapped around herself and her hair falling in curls around her shoulders. She smiled, her lips glinting with some sort of gloss that caught the light. "Goodnight, Doctor."

"Uh—yeah. Well. Goodnight, Sarah." He stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He paused outside for a second before walking away in the direction of his own room. _Those women may have been evil_, he thought to himself as he walked, _but they certainly knew how to dress a girl_. He smiled to himself, and then shook his head. Sarah was his friend. Just a friend.


	13. In Which There is Packing and Boredom

_Chapter 13- In Which There is Packing and Boredom_

_Author's note: Back from Paris! I should be updating regularly again. I hope you guys will stick with me!_

"Will you sit still for a minute? You're making me dizzy."

"But this is so interesting! What's in this black box? How does it open—oh. Oops. I'll put it back…I think…"

Sarah rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. Alien technology from thousands of years in the future he could disassemble in a second, but apparently a makeup box from Sephora was too much for the Doctor. She took the box from his hands and shut the drawers and shelves he'd accidentally opened, then moved it to a high shelf in her closet. "I'm hiding this from you. I don't trust you with anything remotely interesting." She closed the closet, reconsidered, and brought the box back down. "Actually, on second thought, I think I'll pack this too."

"Really? You're packing _that _too? You're not going to be able to move that suitcase by the time you're done," he replied, flopping down her bed. "I don't see why you need to pack anyway. You were doing just fine for two whole weeks on the TARDIS! What do you need all this…_stuff _for?" He asked, pointing his sonic screwdriver at random in her suitcase. The blue light shone on a pill box.

"Why do I need things like my _medication_?" She responded, poking the pill box back into her suitcase. "Because humans get sick, Doctor, unlike fancy time lords. Actually, _do _you get sick?...You know what, I don't want to know. I hope I never find out. You would be a _terror _sick." She shuddered at the idea of a whiny Doctor with a fever. He aimed a kick at her for such insolence, and she dodged and stuck out her tongue.

Sarah and the Doctor were in Canterbury, in Sarah's flat. After two weeks of traveling with borrowed clothing and attempting to make do without a hair brush, Sarah had finally put her foot down: it was time to go back to England and actually pack for a long stay on the TARDIS. The Doctor had been pleased with the idea of returning to Earth again, as he said he hadn't been there for a while, but now he seemed restless. He had flitted around her room like a magpie, grabbing things that caught his interest. She was embarrassed when he noticed her bulletin board, as it was full of portraits she'd drawn—one of the Doctor himself—and some Doctor Who related pins. But he just continued on, examining everything in the room. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to figure her out by understanding her possessions. Finally, though, he'd gotten bored, and a bored Doctor is a dangerous one. By now he had broken a clock, tripped over her shoes and had nearly damaged her makeup kit. Sarah was glad he had flopped down on her bed; at least he had stopped moving. He was currently entertaining himself by spinning his screwdriver into the air and catching it….most of the time, anyway. He was sitting with his back against the wall at the head of her bed, his feet crossed at the ankles and his white Converse sneakers hanging slightly over the edge. He looked quite out of place. This thin, angular man dressed in a brown pinstriped suit had the universe at his fingertips, and here he was sitting on her bed that was too small for him. Afraid that he would notice her staring she returned to packing, but not before she thought about how impossible this situation seemed. There was a picture of the man on her bulletin board, a man who was supposed to be a fictional character, and here he was sitting on her bed. If she had ever imagined herself meeting the Doctor, she certainly never imagined a situation in which he sat on her bed. _A _bed might have been involved, though….and then she blushed furiously and threw more things haphazardly into her suitcase.

The Doctor was entirely oblivious, lost in his own boredom. As he tossed the screwdriver again, he accidentally pressed down on the on switch and the screwdriver lit the ceiling with blue light as it rose upwards. As it fell down, though, it flared brighter and flashed. Suddenly on alert, the Doctor grabbed the screwdriver and whipped around to the wall behind him, trying to figure out what had caused the screwdriver to react. He turned it back on and slowly scanned the wall, waiting for that same reaction.

His sudden movement caused Sarah to look up, confused. "What's wrong? Don't tell me there's something awful hiding in my wall."

"Well, it _would _give me something to do….aha!" The Doctor had found the spot that he was looking for. It was a completely blank stretch of white wall, underneath a dream catcher. The Doctor brushed the netting and feathers aside, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor in order to examine the wall more closely.

"Hey….don't do that…." Sarah admonished, but weakly. Clearly he had found something more important to examine, but the dream catcher was very important to her. She picked it up and brushed it off.

"Wait—_what? _Now the screwdriver isn't reacting. What is going on here?" The Doctor frowned in concentration, running his long fingers over the wall. Sarah watched him, absently stroking the feathers of the dream catcher. He slumped back, clearly disappointed. Unable to find what had made the sonic screwdriver react, he ran it over the room at large. It did not react until he ran it over Sarah, when it suddenly flashed again. She looked up at him, completely confused, and was answered by an equally stunned look from the Doctor. He looked down at the dream catcher in her hands and pointed the screwdriver at it—sure enough, that was the cause of the reaction.

"Can I see that?" He asked, and she passed it to him. He scanned it up and down, examining it closely. It seemed to be entirely normal—just wrapped leather bands, feathers, beads and netting. Definitely made on Earth. Right? It looked innocuous, but there was something about it… "Where did you get this?"

"I…" Sarah frowned at the carpet, trying to remember. "I don't know. I think I've had it my entire life. I can't ever remember not having it in my bedroom. There's nothing special about it….I just like to have it with me." It wasn't particularly pretty—once the feathers had been bright blue, and the brown leather was braided tightly and the netting was whole, but now the colors were faded and some beads had fallen away where the netting had ripped. No one had ever asked her where she'd gotten it, and now that she tried to remember her mind was blank. She shrugged at the Doctor's frustrated expression. She'd always had a terrible memory of her childhood, so it didn't surprise her that she couldn't remember.

"Well, it doesn't seem dangerous, but still…what was that?" There was a noise coming from down the hall. The Doctor jumped up and ran out to pursue the activity, the dream catcher dropping from his hands. Sarah sighed and watched as his long brown trench coat whipped out of the door. She got up from the floor where she had been packing to follow him, but stopped to pick up the dream catcher first. She ran her fingers over it and decided that she would bring it with her to the TARDIS. It would be nice to have something so familiar to her in her room. It would make her bedroom in the TARDIS feel much more like home. She placed it on top of the pile of clothing in her suitcase and turned to follow the Doctor, leaving her room empty.

When the room was quiet, the dream catcher lit up. Just for a second. On the border of braided leather, in tiny gold embroidery, were intricately sewn circles and dots. They sparkled in dim half light coming from the open window. Then the light faded, and the room was still once more.


	14. In Which One Room is Lonely

_Chapter 14- In Which One Room is Lonely_

The Doctor was standing in the hallway, befuddled. He could have sworn that he had heard something coming from the hallway, something that definitely did _not _sound like it originated on Earth. Some kind of a weird song…but when he'd left Sarah's room, all he could find was a girl. He turned, looking for Sarah. This was not a situation he cared to handle without her. First, he had no decent reason for being in this hallway when he clearly didn't live there, and second he was feeling extremely foolish about running out for absolutely nothing.

"Oh, hi Mei! Sorry, this is…..uh…my friend. He's just visiting." Sarah had run up behind him, grinning awkwardly. The girl's expression was blank, though. She just stood there, frozen.

_Maybe she didn't hear me?,_ Sarah thought. She had ear buds in and an iPod in her hand. It was possible…she tried again, a little louder. "Er, so, how are you doing? Are you alright…?" Sarah didn't like her blank expression. She didn't often talk to the other people in her flat—generally she preferred the silence of her own room—but Mei was usually very cheerful, if a bit shy. This blank expression was entirely unlike her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just listening to some music. I've got to go…I'll see you later." She answered vaguely, then pressed her ear buds in more firmly and walked away.

Sarah turned to the Doctor, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. They returned to her room without saying anything. One she had shut the door, Sarah broke the silence. "Um, ok, so that was weird, right? Not just me?"

"Definitely weird. Is she always like that?" Answered the Doctor, who was leaning against her window.

"No…at least, I don't think so…" She ran her fingers through her hair distractedly.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you two friends?"

"I—what? No, not really. She seems nice, though."

"So who are you friends with, then? Anyone I can meet?" He was grinning, but it didn't meet his eyes. They were sharp. Not quite calculating, but oddly perceptive for the Doctor. He was extremely good at assessing situations involving alien invasion of some sort, but when it came to intrapersonal relationships he wasn't exactly an expert. So Sarah coughed, unsure of how to respond. This was not a topic she wished to discuss.

"Um, well, I'm new here. It's been hard to make friends. I'm an exchange student, remember?"

"New…but you've been here for three months. Right?" She did not like the way he was looking at her. She rubbed her wrist and refused to look back at him, trying to think of some way to change the subject. The truth was that she hadn't made any friends. In fact, she had very few friends she could think of at all. Before she had ended up on the TARDIS, she had been…well, the only word was _miserable. _There she was, in an amazing country that she'd never been to before and which had so much to offer, yet she couldn't find anyone to share it with. Then the Doctor had turned up and she was able to ignore these problems, but standing here now in her room, remembering how alone she'd felt here…suddenly she desperately wanted to run away to the TARDIS.

"Hey, you know what? I think I'm about done packing. Why don't we—" She was cut off by a knock at her door. Her eyes flicked to the Doctor's before she went to answer it.

"Oh, hello! Yes, sure, one second…" The Doctor could only see Sarah's back, but he could tell she was hiding something from him. He looked around at her room, feeling oddly disappointed with himself. He spent all of his time with his companions and always knew them completely, yet here was this girl about which he knew nearly nothing. Still, after two weeks of traveling with her, the most he knew was her name and that she was from New York. Donna had told him everything, and so had Martha, and Rose…well, the point was that he usually knew his companions better. Then he wondered when the last time had been that he'd asked her a question that hadn't involved the words "where to next?" Now he'd finally thought to ask her a question and it seemed to be one that she couldn't answer. He sighed, watching her as she turned away from the door to get something. He was getting older, and it was harder to let his companions get close to him. Especially after Rose….but his thoughts were interrupted. Sarah had bent down to pick something up, leaving his view out of the door clear. A man was standing there in a blue uniform. He looked old, for a human, anyway, and good natured. Then the man caught the Doctor's eye and for a second he could have sworn the man's eyes hardened and he grinned evilly. A second later, though, the look was gone as he accepted a bag that Sarah passed him. She closed the door and turned to find the Doctor craning his neck to catch sight of the man.

"Who was that?" He asked, on edge again.

"Oh, just the guy that collects the trash. He's new, actually, I don't recognize him. What's wrong?" She'd caught sight of the Doctor's expression. She was glad that he'd dropped the topic of her social life, but couldn't understand what had caused him to be worried again. "Really, first my flat mate, now the trash collector…you keep thinking that normal things are dangerous! This is _Canterbury. _Nothing ever happens here. Now, really, let me get my suitcase and we can go…Doctor?"

He had moved to look through her curtains, keeping himself flat against her wall. He didn't seem to be listening to her.

"Doctor, seriously! You're acting like you're in a spy movie or something! Trust me, _nothing_ ever happens here. Sometimes I've wished it would…"

"If nothing ever happens here, as you say," the Doctor finally responded, still looking out the window but waving one hand to call her over, "Then why is that garbage man heading to a sinisterly glowing building?"

She stared at him, aghast, and he held the curtain open wordlessly. She moved closer to him and, sure enough, the man was heading to a small shed that appeared to be glowing. The outline of the door was rimmed in a bright green light that, though indistinct from this distance, was unmistakable. "That's the trash building. Why would that be glowing? And…wait a second…who is that?"

The Doctor leaned forward in time to see the door of the shed open. In the doorway was the silhouette of a person that, though difficult to tell, looked female. And cords were hanging from the girl's ears…. "No…that couldn't be….could it?" Sarah turned to the Doctor, willing him to say what she wanted to hear. He looked just as worried as she felt, though, and didn't respond. She knew the answer. They both turned to look again, and the two figures had moved into the light. Mei was turned away from them, prodded forward by the man who then turned to close the door of the shed.

The Doctor and Sarah turned to each other, faces set in lines of anxiety. There was a pause in which they looked at each other and then slowly realized how close together they were. Sarah's face was inches from the Doctor's, and the only thing she could think of was that she'd never noticed that he had freckles. Or that his eyelashes were long. Or that his eyes were a very beautiful brown…

She then came to her senses and jumped away, and the Doctor raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"Ahem. So…we should probably go and…er….fight bad guys? Right?" She said, breaking the awkward silence from a safe five feet away.

"Yes. Good idea." They left the room without speaking. As Sarah locked up her room she hoped this awkward tension between them would fade quickly. She suspected that feeling awkward when there was a life on the line was probably not the best plan.


	15. In Which Another is Evil

_Chapter 15- In Which Another Is Evil_

It was a nice day, for England anyway. There were almost no clouds in the sky and little wind, so of course the parking lot was full of people. Sarah felt a little ridiculous sneaking over to the shed in broad daylight with people staring openly. She slowed her walk in an attempt to look more causal, but had to nearly sprint to catch up with the Doctor. He seemed entirely oblivious to the people staring, or at least he was too distracted to care. When she reached him he had pulled out his sonic screw driver and was scanning the door. She waited, and attempted to lean casually against the shed. Then she realized that there was no way to look casual when you're leaning against a garbage facility and decided to abandon the attempt.

"Damn," came the Doctor's voice from the ground at her feet. "Can't scan. It doesn't—"

"Do wood. Which is very silly, really." Sarah answered. "What about wood confuses your screwdriver so much?"

"Hey, don't insult the screwdriver!" Said the Doctor, standing up and polishing it protectively. "It does everything I need it to. Except….well, wood. _Don't _start…"

Sarah laughed as the Doctor threw his shoulders back like an insulted peacock. Then the door opened behind them. They whipped around to see the garbage collector standing in the doorway.

"Hello," he said, looking pleasantly puzzled. "Can I help you with anything? Did you perhaps need to throw something away? The dumpsters are just over that way."

Sarah turned pointedly to the Doctor. She had decided that this was all his idea and therefore he would have to think of an explanation. He frowned at her—she was sure she would hear about this abandonment later—but turned to the man and grinned precociously. "Hello, we were just wondering if we might have a poke around in there? My _dear _friend Sarah" the Doctor embellished the _dear _with a rather hard pat on Sarah's back, causing her to stumble forward slightly and glare up at him, "managed to throw out some papers of mine that were rather important. Silly girl, but what can you do? Mind if we take a peek?" Sarah turned her head to roll her eyes at the parking lot.

"Oh, I'm sorry son," Answered the man, with a bright smile that didn't quite meet his narrowed green eyes. "I'm quite unable to let anyone inside this shed. The trash compactors could hurt someone, you know!"

"Oddly enough, we thought we saw a girl go in there just now." The Doctor was still smiling, but in his characteristic I-will-take-you-down-one-day sort of way. Sarah clasped her hands behind her back, allowing the situation to unfold without her interference.

"Oh, now, my eyes are getting bad, but I should think eyes as young as yours would have no problem seeing that there's no one in here!" The man stood aside to reveal the inside of the shed: sure enough, Mei was nowhere to be seen. The shed housed two trash compactors, a concrete floor and nothing else. "Why don't you run along then, hmm? Nothing to see here."

They had no choice but to walk away. Sarah led the way, half dragging a reluctant Doctor. Instead of leading him back inside, she directed him to the path behind her building.

"Where are we going? I want to find out what that man's up to…" muttered the Doctor, still turning to look back at the closed door of the shed.

"I don't know, away. For a walk. Back to the TARDIS, maybe. Isn't there some fancy scanning thing you can do to detect unsavory activity?"

The Doctor finally stopped turning around to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "Does that _sound _like something I'd have on the TARDIS?"

She sighed. "No, of course not. Too practical. It would make _far _too much sense."

The Doctor glared at her and opened his mouth to answer, but they both stopped at a noise. They turned. A guy was walking down the path with headphones plugged into his ears, but Sarah and the Doctor could still faintly hear the music that was playing. It was eerie, and vaguely mechanical. The most distinctive thing about him was that he bore the same blank expression Mei had worn earlier. Sarah and the Doctor stared openly, waiting for something to happen, but the boy did not react. In fact, he didn't even look at them. The two were forced to separate to let him through and he continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"He's headed in the direction of the shed, isn't he?" Sarah asked. The Doctor nodded.

"That's the sound I heard when I ran out into your hallway and found that girl," He said, staring after the boy.

Without a word, the two followed after him. They were more careful this time, hoping to avoid another run in with the shed's caretaker. They leaned around the corner of Sarah's building—Sarah, shorter by a few inches, leaned down and the Doctor peeked around just above her. She reflected that they probably looked pretty ridiculous. Then the door of the shed opened and the garbage collector again admitted a blank faced student, then shut the door. The Doctor dashed out from behind her to crouch at the side of the shed, and appeared to be listening intently. She followed, but there was nothing to hear. They waited for a few minutes, but no sound came from the shed and no one either entered or left.

"You know," Sarah whispered quietly, just in case someone was listening, "You _might _have been able to scan the shed and find out what's going on in there if only your screwdriver wasn't so rubbish…"

The Doctor made a very immature face at her and stood up again. She followed suit and they started walking again, aimlessly.

Once they were far enough away from the shed, the Doctor broke the silence. "Well. That was interesting."

"I don't know if interesting is the word I would choose…" Sarah replied, frowning. "What's going on? Is Mei alright?"

"I'm not sure, but we'll find out." Said the Doctor, his expression set. Sarah felt slightly less nervous. When he got that look on his face there was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting to the bottom of a situation.

"So…those headphones people keep wearing. Is there some sort of evil song going around?" It was the only explanation she could think of, and the only apparent link between the two victims.

"It's looking that way, yes. What worries me more is what he's doing once they're inside…" The Doctor's voice trailed away, and Sarah felt a pang of fear for Mei. They had never been friends, but she felt oddly responsible for her fate.

"So much for nothing happening in Canterbury, eh?" Said the Doctor, looking down to give her a sideways smile.

She grinned back, but halfheartedly. "Yeah, until I turn up here with you. I can't help thinking…" She ran a finger over her left eyebrow and left her thought unfinished.

"Thinking…what?" Prodded the Doctor. He was looking at her intently. He had been lax in getting to know her, but he had resolved to do better. But once again he seemed to have picked a question that she didn't want to answer. There was a pause before she spoke again.

"Is this…is this my fault? Absolutely nothing happens here, and then I turn back up with you and suddenly people are in danger. It was my idea to come here. Did….did I do this?"

She had stopped walking and looked up at the Doctor. He looked into her wide, blue eyes, and couldn't answer her for a second. This was a question he asked himself on a daily basis—how many lives do I save, and how many do I merely put in danger? But he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "No. I promise you, this is not your fault. It's likely that things _have _happened here that no one ever noticed. You humans are absolutely determined to ignore extraterrestrial activity if you can at all help it."

She cocked her head, looking at him quizzically. "That wasn't exactly comforting…but I'll take it." She turned, and the Doctor removed his hand from her shoulder as they kept walking. "So…what's the plan?"

"I say we wait for night to fall. Seems like a good time to go sneaking around, right?"

"Sounds good to me! …and until then?"

"Oh, I could always beat you in a card game…but I suppose that wouldn't take up too much time." The Doctor was facing forward, trying to keep a straight face. Sarah responded by punching him in the arm.

"Yeah, we'll see about that!"

They were laughing too loudly to hear the faint scream coming from behind them.


	16. In Which a Sentence is Carried Out

_Chapter Sixteen- In Which A Sentence Is Carried Out_

_Author's Note: Once again I'm running off in Europe- I'll be in Prague until May 8th. Here's the end of the story arc, so you won't have any cliff hangers, and I'll be uploading a companion piece as a separate story. Check my profile for the other story. It's not specifically within this story line, so I don't want it with the other chapters, but I'm pretty sure you'll all like it. ;) See you soon!_

"You cheated!"

"Oh no I did not!"

"Yes you did, you cheated. Let me see your sleeve, you definitely have a card up there."

"No! I won, fair and square. Ha!"

"I don't believe you!" Sarah grabbed the Doctor's arm and felt around under his pin striped sleeve. He laughed openly as she felt nothing, and then both of them paused as their eyes met. Sarah realized that she was very, very close to him and her fingers were resting on the inside of his wrist and she could feel his pulse quicken slightly…she dropped his hand and moved away.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Er, so, we should probably…erm…"

"Clean up the cards? Or start trying to raid the secret alien base camp, whichever."

"Yeah. One of those would be good." He grinned sheepishly and Sarah started to pick up the cards. As they were concentrating on avoiding each other's eyes, it took them a second to register the sound that was coming through the open window. Both of them paused at the same moment as the sound grew louder—once again, there was that eerie mechanical music. They both rushed to the window to see that a different girl was walking past with a familiarly blank expression and large headphones over her ears. She took no notice of the Doctor and Sarah peering out the window after her. And, as they expected, she was admitted into the shed and the door shut behind her. They turned to look at each other.

"What are we going to do?" Sarah asked, panic creeping into her voice. This man had at least three victims and they still had no idea what he was doing with them.

"I think I have a plan, but we're going to need to go back to the TARDIS." The Doctor said, leaning against the window. "And I'm not sure you're going to like it…"

"Well? What is it?" She asked.

"I think one of us needs to go under cover, and I think it should be me. Now, hear me out!" He said, cutting her off as she opened her mouth to protest. "I can get a disguise on the TARDIS, look all blank faced and once I'm in I can figure out what's going on."

"Yeah, ok, terrific plan and all…but where do I fit in exactly?" She asked, crossing her arms and waiting for the answer she knew was about to come.

"You can wait on the TARDIS and…uh….keep it warm for me..?" He grinned halfheartedly, but sighed at her stern expression. "Look, I don't know what this guy is or how dangerous he could be. I don't want you going in there, and that's _final._"

"Oh, that's final, is it? What is your plan, exactly? Get in there and then…what? Jump on him once he's locked the door? Also, the guy is going to _recognize _you. You weren't exactly being subtle earlier. Plus, I'll disguise much easier. You're such a tall beanpole that people would recognize you in a heartbeat. _I _should go in, maybe wear a wig, a completely different outfit, and I promise you won't even know who I am."

As she talked the Doctor rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair in frustration, but he couldn't deny that she had a point. Although he did object to the beanpole comment.

"Fine…I guess you can go. But then what? Do you plan on defeating him without me?"

"What about those cloaking-shield-necklace-pass-y things?"

The Doctor stared at her incredulously. "Pardon me?"

"Wasn't there some sort of necklace thing that you wore with Martha to sneak in somewhere? That made it so that no one would look at you unless you called attention to yourself?"

Now he looked even more confused. "Episode? What are you talking about? And how do you know about Martha?"  
"Er, never mind. Focus on my point, please." She had forgotten that she'd never fully explained his role in her world—that of a character on a television show. Perhaps she would fill him in one day, but now was not the time.

He shook his head. "And that was just a key to the TARDIS that did that. I just attached the TARDIS's perception filter to it." He said, then seemed to process what he'd just explained. "Hang on…yes, that would work, wouldn't it?"

She smiled, trying not to look smug. She had a feeling that she was failing miserably. "Yes, see? So I'll get disguised, get him to open the door for you, and then you'll slip in after me. And…then we'll figure it out from there."

"Right. Ok. I'll need your key, then," he said, holding his hand out.

"Hey, get your own! You gave this to me and it's mine. So there. Why don't you have a key to your own ship?"

"I don't _need _a key, I have a sonic screwdriver!" He said, momentarily frustrated by her refusal to hand over the key, then had to laugh. "Fine, I'll find another spare."

"Yes, you will. This one's mine." She walked away, clutching her key protectively and acting scandalized at his proposition. Together they walked back to the TARDIS.

"So, how do I look?"

Sarah was walking downstairs from the wardrobe to the center of the TARDIS in her new disguise. She was wearing a baseball cap and had her hair in a low pony tail, in an attempt to disguise her hair color in case the man had noticed. A baggy sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers had replaced the outfit she was wearing that morning, and a pair of white headphones dangled around her neck, ready to complete the look.

"Erm….interesting. Definitely not like the Sarah I usually hang around with." The Doctor was waiting for her at the landing. His outfit had not changed, save for a silver chain around his neck which held a key to the TARDIS.

She cocked her head at him. "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. I'll choose compliment."

They left the TARDIS, walking quietly now. Night had fallen and the campus was mostly empty, save for a few drunken partiers. When they got closer to the shed, they nodded at each other and Sarah adopted her character. She put in her headphones and walked slowly and woodenly, with a blank expression. She stood outside the door to the shed without knocking, as she had seen no other victim knock.

The door opened within seconds. "Hm, I wasn't expecting another guest so soon. Come in, dear." The man said, grinning evilly. He moved aside to let her in and Sarah walked forward slowly, allowing time for the Doctor to slip in behind her. Sure enough, she felt a brush of cloth just as the door closed, but didn't dare turn her head to look. When the door closed, she almost gasped but managed to prevent it. Apparently the Doctor wasn't the only one with the use of a perception filter. It was not a shed but a cavernous room that seemed to go on and on into the darkness. Where the garbage compactors had been was a contraption that looked rather like a wood chipper, an evil looking bin full of rotating razors. It was connected to a green pipe of that then connected to some sort of head piece. As the garbage collector himself came forward Sarah saw that he was no longer a kind old man but a huge creature. He had to be at least 8 feet tall, green, and quite slimy. He rather resembled a huge slug.

"You shall have to wait, my dear. I had not yet finished with my last guest," said the creature, moving over to the head piece. Before Sarah could react, or even the Doctor—who Sarah assumed was somewhere behind her, but couldn't see him with the perception filter—the slug creature had replaced the head set and pressed a button. Screams immediately pierced her ears and it was all she could do not to flinch. The girl she had seen pass her window earlier had been fed into the wood chipper and she couldn't help but close her eyes. Once the screams had subsided, she reopened them to see that the slug creature was…somehow bigger. And glowing faintly.

"These iPod contraptions make it ever so easy to collect victims for my little set up," said the alien to himself in satisfied tones. "Just one little song with a subliminal undercurrent of mind control and they all come flocking! Soon I shall be strong enough that I won't have to hide in this accursed shed. I shall have _all _of the puny human race at my command." He laughed manically to himself, then seemed to notice Sarah standing there. "Ah, but yes, I have another guest to serve! How rude of me. Come here, child. Come and meet your fate."

Sarah walked slowly in his direction, her heart hammering. She desperately hoped that the Doctor had some kind of plan, because she certainly couldn't see a way out of this. As she walked, she heard a voice whisper in her ear that seemed to be coming from thin air. "I have a plan. Just trust me." She swallowed and bent her head, almost imperceptibly, so he would know that she had heard him. He squeezed her hand briefly and then ran somewhere behind her. She walked up the steps and stood in front of the machine. It looked even more evil and deadly from this angle. All she could see in front of her were blades upon blades, and they looked rather sharp.

"Well, come on then! Walk on through, no need to be shy," said the alien, already strapped into his head set.

She took a deep breath. _I trust the Doctor. He hasn't led me wrong yet…has he? _And then she walked forward…but found that she couldn't. The blades were not turning and would not allow her to pass through, so all she suffered were a few pricks from the blades that touched her skin.

"What is going on here?" Roared the alien. She heard him press the button again to turn the machine on, and then heard another scream. She dropped the mind control act, figuring she couldn't be possibly in any worse danger, and moved away from the machine to see what was going on.

The Doctor had appeared. He was lit by a pale green light and his face looked grave as he watched the alien fry before him. The head set seemed to have malfunctioned and was sending an overflow of power into the alien, who was shrieking in pain.

"Who—_are—_you…?" The alien managed to say. Evidently the Doctor had taken off the key to the TARDIS and was standing in full view of the alien, who wouldn't be alive for much longer to see him anyway.

"I'm the Doctor. I am the most dangerous man in the universe. The next time you go up against me, don't make the mistake of hurting innocents. And _especially _not my friends. Though I'm afraid there won't be a next time for you."

The alien's eyes rolled back into his head, he shuddered, and then his entire body melted. The headset clattered to the floor in a pool of muck.

Sarah shivered, and turned to look at the Doctor. "I..what happened?" She asked. He ignored the question, instead taking her hand and leading her outside. He then took out his screwdriver and locked the door of the shed, for good measure. They continued walking.

"What happened?" Sarah repeated, removing her baseball cap.

"It was a Pasthafeugue," he said. He was looking forward and had a deadened expression. "A sort of alien slug that feeds off of the energy of others. Usually it does it by a sort of tentacle in their heads that attaches to the skull of its victims, but this one seems to have had access to some fancy technology. Apparently he was luring his victims through those songs, as you heard. I don't know how many people he was able to get, but I can't imagine it was very many. They grow in size, you see, as they absorb energy and that one was tiny."  
"_Tiny? _That was _tiny?_" She asked, shocked.

"Well, yes," he said, looking mildly surprised. "They can grow to hundreds of feet. Hence the need for that big cave, I imagine. Once I figured out how his machine worked, I broke it by sticking a metal pipe in the blades. Then I rigged the machine to blow up using the sonic screw driver…and it then electrocuted him."

They had reached her room. Sarah quickly ducked in to zip up her suitcase and drag it out to the TARDIS. She turned to look at her room one last time before she left. She had no idea when would be the next time she would return, or what state she'd be in. This room would stay exactly the same no matter how many planets she traveled to or how many traps she escaped from. She sighed, then turned to leave only to find the Doctor blocking her path. He was leaning against her door frame, looking as blank as the slug creature's victims.

"Doctor…?" She asked, tapping his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Wh—? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Perfectly fine." It wasn't very convincing.

"Uhuh. Because you _look _so fine, clearly." She said, sarcastically. "Come on, what's wrong?"

He moved aside so she could lock the door and was quiet for a while as they returned to the TARDIS. Finally, he said, "Killing things. It's just…I hate when it comes to that. Those creatures aren't usually evil. I know they _sound _evil, but usually they get energy from machines, not sentient beings. There was no reason for this one to do this." He sighed, and looked up at the sky. The stars had come out by now and the sky was speckled with bright, flickering points of light.

She put a hand on his upper arm. "I know."

This was apparently all he needed to hear. He smiled briefly at her as they reached the TARDIS.

"Well, I think we've had quite an exciting day, haven't we?" He said, acting overly cheerful and moving around the hub of the TARDIS to steer themselves off of Earth. "You should get to bed! I bet you're tired, eh?"

She looked at him for a minute, standing there in oversized clothing and wheeling a bright pink suitcase. Then she smiled. "Good night, Doctor. I'll be in my room if…if you need me or anything." He looked up at her. It was not something she'd ever said before. "I mean…if some other alien creepy-crawly gets on the ship. Or something."

But he smiled back. "Thank you, Sarah. I'll keep that in mind."

She blushed at her awkward phrasing, but walked away knowing that the Doctor had understood her offer to talk, if he needed to. She knew he wouldn't take her up on it.

Once inside her room, she opened up her suitcase to start unpacking. It was nice to have some familiar things on the TARDIS, and feel like she had some ownership over her room. On top of a pile of clothing was her dream catcher, which she'd quite forgotten about with all of the events of the day. She patted it fondly and picked it up. She walked over to the wall behind her bed, found a tack, and hung the dream catcher up. She smiled at it and was about to turn away when something caught her eye. For a moment she had thought she'd seen words on the edge of the dream catcher—words written in golden embroidery….but when she looked back the words were gone. She examined the border of the dream catcher but could only see the design of circles, dots and swirls that had always been there. There was no longer any kind of message. She shrugged and turned back to her suitcase.

Behind her, the words flickered in and out on the dream catcher, but Sarah was no longer paying attention. It said the number _17,042,012 _and a cryptic message: _Time to start running, Sarah. _


	17. In Which There is Trespassing

_Chapter Seventeen: In Which There is Trespassing_

_Author's Note: Hi guys, back from Prague! Sorry to say I won't be updating a ton for about a week or so- I'm heading off to Ireland in a few days and before that I have a final to study for. But after that it's summer vacation and I'll have tons of time. Stick with me, guys! _

_It was bright, far too bright. Her vision was filled with intense gold rays, and she had to shield her eyes with her fingers. She thought she could make out a figure, but it was difficult to tell in the bright glare. _

_ "How is my Doctor, Sarah?"_

_ The voice was melodic but verged on hysterical, and definitely female. It laughed and Sarah thought she saw the figure spin herself closer. Now she could almost make out the outline of bushy curls. _

_ "Take care, Sarah. Take care of my Doctor."_

Sarah woke up with a start and realized that she was covering her eyes. Apparently the light in her dream had caused her to react in reality. There could be no other reason she would shield her eyes on the TARDIS, surely, because there was no window for sun to seep through. Still, she thought she saw rays of gold between her fingers….

She sat up and looked around, trying to shake herself awake. She waited a few beats, then shook her head. Obviously she'd been imagining things. She stretched and rose out of bed to get dressed. When she turned around her eyes fell on her dream catcher which—was it her imagination?—seemed to be gleaming. She stepped closer to it, determined to finally get to the bottom of whatever was going on with this dream catcher, when she heard a crash. Sarah whipped her head around. It wasn't coming from the left, which led to the center of the TARDIS—fortunate, as that might mean they had suffered an intrusion and it was much too early for her to deal with that—but instead from the right, which lead further into the TARDIS.

Forgoing getting properly dressed, Sarah ran out of her room in a tank top, shorts and bare feet. There seemed to be no recurrent crashes to follow the first, though, so she moved more cautiously. Then she heard a muttered curse.

"Doctor?"

She had rounded a corner and ended up in front of the Doctor's bedroom. The door was closed and she certainly didn't want to open it without permission. It looked vaguely medieval, with an arched doorframe and iron gilding. She stood outside, apprehensive.

"Wot?—oh, Sarah, right, hello!" The door had burst open and Sarah had to jump back quickly. The Doctor was half dressed, wearing blue trousers, a partially buttoned white shirt and had a red tie slung around his neck. "You're up early! What's wrong?"

"I was about to ask you the same question, actually…" she said, crossing her arms. She was becoming more and more embarrassed at her rush to the rescue, and dearly wished she'd at least put on an oversized t shirt.

"Oh! Yes, well, I had a bit of a disagreement with my wardrobe this morning. From Hordrigger, you know, mind of its own." He glanced back into his room and glared behind him, then looked back to see Sarah's blank expression. "Ah, well, _literally _mind of its own, actually." He explained, buttoning up his shirt the rest of the way. "This morning it went berserk and decided that my tie needed to be tight enough to choke me…pity, because I'm rubbish at ties."

Sarah burst into peals of laughter before she could stop herself. "Wot?" The Doctor asked, looking confused, then frustrated as she continued to laugh. "_Wot?_"

"You….you are _nine hundred years old…._" She managed, through giggles, "and you can't tie a tie? Seriously?"

He straightened, looking offended. "Well, I'm a very busy man! I don't have time to learn things like _ties _when I have worlds to save. Most of the time it's _your _world, mind you!" He huffed, trying to look important, but failed miserably in crinkled trousers, bare feet and an untied tie.

She finally managed to stop laughing, though his insulted expression was priceless in and of itself. "Come here, you glorified nine year old." Without waiting for permission, she took the ends of his tie and began knotting and adjusting, causing the Doctor to have to stoop quickly to avoid being choked again. He watched her as her fingers moved deftly with the red fabric. At such close proximity to her face, it struck him that she looked different this morning, and couldn't think what it was until he met her gaze when she'd finished with the tie—it was her eyes. Instead of being rimmed by long, dark lashes as usual, he saw that her eyelashes were pale gold. Then he realized that he'd held her gaze for a moment too long.

She moved back, letting the tie slip from her fingers. "Um, there you go! I'm just…going to go get dressed." She walked quickly away before he could respond.

The Doctor adjusted his tie and watched her go, frowning slightly. She did that a lot, running away before he could answer. He had no idea what to make of it.

Later, Sarah descended the staircase into the main room of the TARDIS, this time fully dressed and presentable. The Doctor was already at the controls, fiddling with a monitor.

He turned, hearing her footsteps. "Ah, Sarah! Good," he said, moving around the controls and whipping his long trench coat in his wake, "Think you're up for another adventure?"

She grinned. "And what kind of companion would I be if I wasn't?"

"Too right! Now, I don't know how you feel about museums, but I _love _them! Fantastic things! Lots of fun memories, all in one place, and terrifically inaccurate. How about I take you to the best museum there is? It's in the Beta-Gatuyl quadrant and they've borrowed the best pieces from museums all over the universe. It's one stop shopping!" He stopped in front of her, hands in his pockets and wearing his familiarly goofy grin. "What do you say?"

"Sounds great!"

"Well then, allons-y!" He said, pulling a lever and swinging around to turn a knob. The TARDIS whirred, shook, and landed. He ran over to the door, pulled it open, and held a hand out for her. "Come on, then!"

She took his hand and followed him outside, her face shining, expecting another new and exciting world…but instead found herself in an empty courtyard. It was dark and tree lined, leading up to a tall white marbled building in the distance.

The Doctor charged ahead, dragging her behind him. "Um, Doctor? Isn't it…a little late? I don't think museums are usually open this late. Uhh…hell-looo? Anyone in there?" He ignored her and continued to tug her along, refusing to pause until they reached the museum itself. It was definitely closed, as Sarah had suspected. White marble steps led up to tall columns and huge white doors, framed by high windows. There was no one around, that she could see, and there were certainly no lights on to welcome them in.

Sarah pulled on the Doctor's arm. "Seriously, Doctor, the museum is closed! We shouldn't be here!"

"Aw, come now Sarah! Where has your sense of adventure gone? Really now!" The Doctor turned to her, frowning, looking for all the world like a severely disappointed professor.

"I— well… I mean…." She hesitated. She had been instilled with an extremely strong moral compass from a very young age, and her conscience was shouting _no! _in her head. But the Doctor had that mischievous look in his eyes and something else inside her was asking _why not?_

He saw the change in her expression and, before she could say anything, he grinned and dragged her to the door of the museum. With just a quick scan from the sonic screwdriver the door had creaked open. The Doctor slipped in through the crack silently and, before she could think about it, Sarah had followed after.

Inside, the museum was huge. High ceilings went up and up into darkness, and Sarah couldn't even see the other end of the room. Exhibits hung everywhere with no apparent order—the Mona Lisa was off to the left next to a clearly alien statue of something acid green with tentacles. Sarah stepped forward slowly, trying to take in everything at once.

The Doctor followed behind her, trying not to look too smug, but mentally taking notes to brag later. Then he whipped around and stared into the shadows behind him. He could have sworn he heard something…

"Doctor! Come here! "Starry Starry Night", it's so beautiful!"

Distracted, the Doctor turned to Sarah and stepped toward her a couple of paces, then turned again to look into the darkness. He must have imagined it, then. He turned his back to rejoin his companion and something followed a distance behind.


	18. In Which There is Darkness

Chapter Eighteen- In Which there is Darkness

_Hi, everyone! I have to say, I am SO sorry about this horrible delay! My summer is much busier than I thought- I have a job, an internship, and a thesis to study for. It's been kind of crazy, but I hope to be able to write more now! I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long! I hope this is a good update!_

Her hair was iridescent in the moonlight coming in through skylights in the ceiling. As the Doctor walked he slowed down, considering her. It was rare that he could catch a glimpse of her when she wasn't paying attention. She was forever cheerful and cracking jokes, but sometimes the Doctor wondered if her loud personality was merely a distraction. Sarah directed attention away from herself, never inviting anyone to get to know her. Right now, though, she was completely absorbed in the painting before her. Her blue eyes were shining, and a smile that bordered on gleeful was spreading across her face.

"It's _so _beautiful, Doctor…" Sarah said, without turning to face him.

"Yes…very beautiful…" The Doctor responded absently, but he wasn't looking at the painting.

Something sounded off in his voice. Sarah turned to face the Doctor, frowning. "What's wrong? What are you…" but her voice trailed away and her gaze moved from the Doctor to something in the shadows behind him. "Uh, duck." She grabbed the top of his head and shoved him down, just in time to avoid an arrow that whizzed past and sunk into Starry Starry Night instead. She turned, distraught. "Oh no, not the painting!"

The Doctor, well shaken out of his reverie, sprung into action. "Oh, right, would you rather it had gotten my head? Come on, then! Run!"

He grabbed her hand and tore off, running further into the museum. As they ran Sarah turned back, trying to see who their attackers were. She could only make out humanoid shapes that were very short before another arrow flew past her head. She decided that, for now, it didn't matter much who was doing the shooting. They ran.

"Ok, I think we're safe here. Maybe. Probably. Well, there's at least a 30% chance that we—"

"Doctor, could you maybe _not _calculate our chances of survival?"

"…Right. Yes. Ahem."

As she panted, Sarah looked around, but there wasn't much to see. It was almost pitch black in the corridor they'd ended up in. There were spiky shapes to her left that she hoped were sculptures, and something that looked like columns on their right. She could hear the Doctor moving away from her.

"Uh, Doctor? Please don't wander off…I can't see anything in here." She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice, but it was difficult. They were in an unfamiliar place, there were people trying to kill them, and it was dark. Not a terrific combination.

"Yeah, right, I won't….I just want to see where this wall goes…I used to know this museum really well, I bet I can figure a way out and to the TARDIS…"

As he talked she could hear his voice getting further and further away. "_Doctor, _I am serious! Please don't get us separated!" She whispered vehemently, suddenly feeling that they were being too loud.

"Doctor?...Doctor?" She sighed. "You have _got _to be kidding me. You're already gone, aren't you?" There was no answer. "Terrific."

The Doctor was feeling his way down a wall. He was convinced he was going south, towards the entrance…or was the entrance north, and he was going the wrong way? Or perhaps he was actually going north, and the entrance _was _south…or was he going east? Then he remembered that he wasn't alone, and he had someone else to consult.

"Sarah, what direction do you think we're heading in? I thought it was north at first but now I think it's south…or wait, south first, then north…right? What do you think?. . .Sarah?"

There was no response. He turned around but could see nothing but vague shadows in the darkness. "I've gone and lost her, haven't I? Well done, me…" Now the Doctor had three problems: figuring out how to get out of the museum, avoiding their mysterious enemies, and finding Sarah. At least he seemed to have lost their enemies for the time being.

He began to move forward again. There was nothing to be done but try to figure out where he was, then find Sarah. And hopefully avoid the people shooting arrows. He crept along the corridor, oriented by a hand on the wall, when suddenly there was no wall. He had ended up in an open area of some sort. He moved forward cautiously, silently…but perhaps not silent enough. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in the back of his calf. The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well, this is entirely inconvenient," he managed. And blacked out.

_Well, I have two options, _Sarah thought. _I can stay here and wait to see if the Doctor will come back for me. Isn't he always saying not to wander off? Then again, it's him who's done the wandering… _She raked a hand through her hair. _The other option is to move forward and try to figure out where the exit is. _She sighed. It would have to be the second option. There was no point in sitting here by herself. She took a deep breath and walked forward, and immediately ran into something large.

She screamed, then scrambled away and began to run. She hadn't remembered their arrow-shooting enemies to be quite so tall, but perhaps they had larger friends. She didn't plan on staying to figure it out. She was just about to turn a corner when something made her stop.

"Sarah? Are you there? I can't see a bloody thing…"

She paused. "Doctor…? I thought you'd just wandered off somewhere?" The Doctor's voice was coming from the area she'd just run away from.

"What? No, I didn't. I'm right here. Come on, I think I know where to go."

"Well, that's a relief. But…can't you be quieter?" He was speaking in normal tones, but it sounded like shouting in the pitch black. "We have no idea where those people went and I don't exactly want to attract attention."

"Yes, Sarah. I will. Let's go this way." He answered, at exactly the same volume. She felt his hand reach for hers. "Take my hand. We shouldn't separate."

"I…okay…" She conceded, and followed him a few paces. There was something strange about him. First he had no idea where he was, then he disappeared, and now he'd returned with a sudden sense of direction and seemed to be able to see in the darkness, despite his statement to the contrary. There was something going on here.

"You look very beautiful tonight, Sarah."

She broke her train of thought and very nearly tripped. "I- what?"

She could see the outline of his face turn towards hers. "I said, you look very beautiful tonight."

"I…I don't know what to say…ahem. Maybe we should get out of here first." She swallowed.

"Why wait? I know how I feel." He'd stopped walking and turned towards her. He was moving closer.

"Doctor, please, I don't think this is the right time…what is wrong with you, anyway? You're acting so strange…" She felt hands grip her shoulders and push her against a wall.

"I am not acting strange. I am in love. Don't you want this?"

As his face moved closer, Sarah was finally able to make out his features. It was definitely not the Doctor. She screamed.

Far away, the Doctor woke groggily. He had heard someone scream, someone that sounded like Sarah….he had to get to her. He opened his eyes to discover that he was lying face down on the floor. The Doctor sat up slowly, shaking his head. What had happened to him?

He heard another scream, and snapped into action. He got up and started running towards the screams, but stopped at the sound of a voice.

"Doctor? Where are you going? Are you alright? You collapsed…"

It was Sarah's voice. He turned and saw a shape in the distance. Was it Sarah? It looked to be about her height. It was certainly her voice.

"Sarah? I thought…wasn't that you screaming?"

"Me? What screaming? You must have hit your head harder than I thought…" Suddenly she was right in front of him, and the Doctor wondered how she could have possibly gotten across the room so quickly. Hands stroked his face. "My poor Doctor…"


	19. In Which There are Copies

_Chapter Nineteen: In Which There are Copies_

_I started writing a chapter but it became way too long, so I stayed up late to write two. Surprise! _

Sarah slipped under the crushing grip of the man's arms, managing to run a few paces. She couldn't help turning back, though; what _was _that thing? And why did it have the Doctor's voice?

"Why are you running, Sarah? Why would you run from me?" The thing moved forward, slowly but inexorably, in her direction.

She gulped, and decided that now was not the time to figure out what it was. It was time to run. She spun around and, without a backwards glance, pelted down a random hallway. _Always with the running, _she thought wryly. As she ran, the adrenaline high quickly dissipated to leave a mounting feeling of fear. She had no idea where she was going, she could hardly see, and she wouldn't be able to run for much longer. She wasn't like the companions in Doctor Who—she didn't have a stunt double working for her, and she was nowhere near an athlete. Sarah had asthma, and running wasn't something she could keep up for long. She could only hope to lose the mystery figure quickly.

She paused when she stumbled across an intersection. There was a hallway ahead of her through a pair of doors, to the right another empty hallway, this one without doors, and to her left was what looked like a closet. She thought fast. She had no idea how far she had run, or how far away the figure was. She made her decision—she couldn't run for much longer anyway, so if this didn't work she would inevitably be caught. A terrifying thought, when she remembered the dead, glassy eyes of whatever was chasing her… She took a quick look behind her, saw nothing, and acted. She kicked the double doors open loudly, letting them swing, and then noiselessly slipped into the cupboard on her left. Hiding in the shadows, she left the door open just enough to see a sliver of the hallway. And then the only choice was to wait. Sarah hoped that she had made the right choice.

The Doctor shook his head, dazed. He must have taken quite the fall. He reached up to touch one of Sarah's hands, but there was nothing there. He looked back up at Sarah, who was still standing a few feet away. Had he imagined the touch?

"Doctah? Are you alright? You look a bit off…"

He shook his head again. Suddenly Sarah had developed an English accent. Where did that come from?

"Sarah? Is that you?"

"'Course it's me, you fool. Who'd'ja expect?"

His brow furrowed. That was not Sarah's voice…that was…. "I…Rose? Wot?"

"I forgive you, y'know. I mean, you couldn't help it, right? I'm happy. Where I am."

The Doctor was frozen. Rose's voice, exactly as he remembered it, was coming out of Sarah's mouth. He wanted to tell her to stop, or to ask for an explanation, but he was rooted to the spot. And his head wouldn't stop buzzing…

"And you seem happy too. The girl. She's, y'know, no _me, _but she's a good substitute. She better take care of you, alright?"

He was startled into speech. "Wot? I..don't know what you mean…how are you here, Rose?"

Sarah's face was impassive for a moment. Then she suddenly looked derisive. "Come on then, space man, show me what you can do! Didn't 'ya say you could get us out of here?"

His two hearts pounded in his chest. This was too much. First Rose, now Donna…what was going on?

"I was going to be with you…forever." She smiled ruefully. The Doctor had a sudden urge to tear at himself, to hurt himself physically. He couldn't bare the pain. "I'm alright, y'know. I survived. We're all meant to leave you at some point. It's her time now. And who knows? Maybe she'll be the one to stay with you forever."

"Sarah…or whoever you are…_please. _I'm begging you." He was slowly regaining the feeling in his legs, but he was unable to move away. "I can't…"

Sarah's heart was pounding in her chest as she waited. Was the figure even following her anymore? Perhaps she'd already lost it, and she was waiting in a closet for nothing. Was it worth the risk to leave her safety and look down the hall? As she considered this, she heard something. Slow, methodical footsteps. She could feel the cold grip of panic take over once more, and she shifted slightly in the closet. At this angle, she could now see the doors. Her trick was set; the doors were still swinging slightly. Now she could only see whether the figure would take the bait…

Something moved in front of the door. It stopped, briefly. Sarah's heart thudded as she waited for it to turn to her, hands outstretched…but it didn't. It moved forward, through the doors, and out of sight.

Sarah waited, she wasn't sure how long, before she moved. Every time she thought it might be safe to move she wondered if a trap had been pulled on her, and the figure was waiting in front of the door. Finally, she mustered up her courage and opened the door. No one was there. She let out a soft, shaky sigh, and then took off through the empty hallway before her.

_Now I just need to find the Doctor. _she thought, running more slowly this time._ Easier said than done…where did he get off to? _

As if in answer, she heard a voice come from a corridor to her right. "Please…stop…" It sounded like the Doctor…again. Could it be another trap?

She sighed. There wasn't much choice. Hopefully, the creepy figure had gone off in the wrong direction and this was the real Doctor. She turned right, and ended up in an open room. From what she could see, it contained nothing but entrances to other hallways. And, in the center of the room in a ball on the floor, the Doctor.


	20. In Which There are Memories

_Chapter Twenty: In Which There are Memories_

"Please, stop this. We…we have to get out of here." The Doctor protested weakly, but it did nothing to deter her.

"See, the thing is…" Sarah began again, ignoring his anguish. Or was it really Sarah? How could it be Sarah? "I'm alright. I've moved on. I understand, you see? Memories of Rose were killing you. I get that now. You could never have seen me that way."

_Martha, _the Doctor thought. _Not Martha. Anyone but Martha. Please._

"But 'chu never told me, did you? You should have told me. And now you need to tell _her_. Just….promise me this, right? Tell her."

He groaned, rubbing abrasively at his temples. "I…I am so sorry…for all of you, I'm so, so sorry…" He closed his eyes, trying to shut out Sarah's face and the memories that swam before him.

Sarah forgot about her panic as she watched the Doctor. He was clearly in pain, and kept asking someone to stop, please, stop…but who was he talking to? She moved forward, tentatively. He didn't notice her. He was staring resolutely at the empty space in front of him, pleading with someone.

"I can't tell her…I can't…how could I tell her?" He moaned, covering his face. Sarah had never seen him this way. The Doctor always stood tall, always with a plan, even if it was a bad one. She had never seen him cower in fear. It was terrifyingly human.

She moved forward. "Doctor, please. We need to get out of here. I don't know what's hurting you, but there's no one here."

He jolted, startled, and looked up at her. His gaze moved down to the hand Sarah had placed on his arm, and he reached out to touch it. His eyes were distant, and he looked weak. What had happened to him while she was gone?

"Sarah? Is that really you?"

"What? Yes, of course it's me! Please, I'm going to help you get up, alright?" Without waiting for him to say anything, she dragged one of his arms over her shoulders and gripped his abdomen with both hands. She stood slowly, waiting to see if he would take his own weight. The Doctor stretched the muscles in his legs tentatively, then planted them more firmly. He straightened of his own accord, and she let him slip from her grip. She moved away, watching his face closely. There was no chance that this was the terrifying figure she'd run from, but she still wasn't sure that the Doctor was all there.

He looked confused for a moment, but then his expression hardened. He looked at her sharply. "I know which way to go. Take my hand. I'm not getting separated again."

She nodded, inwardly cheering. _This _was the Doctor. He grabbed her hand and they took off for a hallway on their left. They tore down it without speaking, and the Doctor made turn after turn, as if he'd memorized a map. She had gotten turned around quickly and now had no idea where they were going, and could only catch glimpses of picture frames and eerie statues as they ran past. Finally, they ended up in another open space, this time a recognizable one. They had ended up at the entrance.

"Finally," she sighed in relief, "we can get out of here!"

But she had spoken too soon—figures were appearing on their right, slowly pacing towards them. The Doctor turned to face them, expressionless. He leaned down and picked something up—did he just rip an _arrow _from his leg?—and tossed it towards the figures. They slowed, then stopped. One figure broke ranks with the rest and picked up the arrow. It nodded.

"What the hell-" Sarah began, but the Doctor took dragged her towards the entrance. She flinched, expecting a hail of arrows to fall on them, but nothing happened. She turned for one last look as they left the museum. All she could see were shadowy figures converging on the doors…and then they closed, and they were moving quickly towards the safety of the TARDIS. Somehow, they had gotten out alive.

"Ok, I think I need an explanation," Sarah said as soon as they were through the blue doors.

The Doctor didn't answer her but started working with the controls. He did not speak until the TARDIS had warped and brought them safely away from the museum. Then he sighed and leaned against the controls.

"Sarah, forgive me. I never should have taken you there. I should have remembered." He looked tired, and though he normally reminded her of a child his face now held the exhaustion of 900 years.

"Remembered what? I am seriously confused here. What happened back there? What happened to you?"

He sighed. "The museum of the Beta-Gatuyl quadrant is the best museum in just about any known galaxy. It is also guarded. I was an idiot to take you there after hours. What happened was that the guards of the museum, machines, though I dunno if you were able to tell, rose to fight their intruders. They divide and conquer, you see. They injure one intruder, take a DNA sample, and make a copy to distract another. I would guess you saw some copy of myself?"

"Well, yes." Sarah answered, remembering the blank eyes. "I think it tried to kill me. Or something."

"Not kill, they don't kill. They trap their victims and hold them until the next business day, to let the museum staff handle things as they see fit. Some intruders are captured by copies, and others hit by arrows are left to face their own demons."

"Demons? I'm missing something…" Sarah frowned.

"The arrows paralyze you temporarily and force you to see things. I thought…." He looked away. "I thought I saw you."

"I….I'm sorry? Did I try to kill you? I didn't mean it!" Sarah laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, at least partially.

He smiled. "Not exactly. But it's fine now. We escaped."

She nodded, and waited for him to continue. But he just stood there, looking away from her, seemingly lost in thought.

"Um, Doctor, I think I'll go to bed…that's enough excitement for me today. Is that alright? Are…are you alright?" The hours of panic had exhausted her, and she looked forward to some well deserved rest.

"Right, right, go on then. Goodnight, Sarah."

She had almost reached the hallway that led to her rooms when she heard him call her again. "Sarah?"

She turned. "Yes? What…what's wrong?"

"I wanted to tell you…" He paused. He had finally met her eyes, but she couldn't read his expression. He looked guilty, like he had wronged her, but also…was it hopeful? But the expression was gone in an instant.

He ran a hand through his hair ruefully. "You were amazing today! Really amazing. We make a great team."

She smiled, but felt confused. Was that all he wanted to tell her? "Sure, Doctor. We manage alright." She waited to see if he would say anything else, but he turned away.

"Good night," he called over his shoulder, and she considered herself dismissed.

In her room she got into pajamas and climbed into bed, still puzzled. The Doctor copy had said some strange things…but what had the Doctor seen in his visions?

The Doctor spread his hands against a wall of the TARDIS, leaning forward to rest his head against the metal. Memories of what he'd seen in the museum raced around his head. They had all risen out of his own guilt, he knew that now. Nothing they said was true. Rose was still off in an alternate dimension, Donna had no idea who he was, and Martha was probably saving the world somewhere. And he had hurt them all. And yet…_aren't they all alright, in a way?, _he thought. Rose had a copy of himself and her family. Martha had found her calling and had married Mickey. Donna couldn't remember anything, and perhaps was none the worse for it. Wallowing in guilt was no way to move forward. They were gone. And now….there was Sarah. And he was still keeping secrets.

He straightened resolved. He would tell her how he felt.

He walked down the halls of the TARDIS to her room, rehearsing in his head. _Sarah, I need to tell you something….no, that's not right. Sarah, lately I've started to feel…no, I can't do that. That's awful. Sarah, did you know that bananas are a terrific source of potassium? _

He had been standing in front of her door for a full minute before he'd realized that he'd reached it. He steeled himself and made a fist to knock, then paused. The door was open. She was already asleep, apparently worn out from the day's stresses. Her hair shone in the light from the doorway. She looked peaceful.

The Doctor shook his head and moved away from her door. He couldn't. Not today. He walked down the hall towards his own rooms. "One day, Sarah. One day," he whispered to the empty hallway.


	21. In Which There is a Parting of Ways

Chapter Twenty One: In Which There is a Parting of Ways

Sarah lay in bed, her eyes closed. She didn't know what time it was- it was difficult, on the TARDIS. It was hard to know how long you'd slept when you were suspended in space, able to travel to any time and anywhere. The museum last night had been frightening, but no more so than any other adventure. What was frightening was the look on the Doctor's face when she had left for bed. What had he wanted to tell her? What had that poison arrow made him see? But it was useless. The Doctor was impossible to get details out of. He would never tell her something he was unwilling to divulge. She'd just have to wait.

She sighed and stretched, feeling sunlight hitting her face. _Must be time to wake up, _she thought.

And then she paused. _Sunlight? How could there be sunlight in the TARDIS? _

Slowly she tried to feel her surroundings, to reassure herself of where she was. She could not open her eyes. Not yet. It would be okay if she could just feel the ground at level with her hand, and know that she was in her sunken bed. It would be okay if she could feel the silky sheets of her bed on the TARDIS. It would be okay.

But Sarah didn't feel silky sheets. Instead, she felt cheap fabric, rather like the sheets she'd purchased from ASDA for her flat in Canterbury. And when she reached out her hand to feel the floor next to her, she tumbled down. Her eyes snapping open, she looked around wildly. This was not the TARDIS. This was her flat.

Feeling panic rise in her chest, she looked around. Her eyes fell on the Doctor. He was standing at her window, watching her. He didn't say anything. Just watched her, with a strange look in his eyes…

"D-Doctor? I…what's going on? Is…this a joke?" Sarah tried to laugh, but it came out as a choking sound.

Still, he didn't answer her. He just watched her.

"This must be a joke," she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She could feel a piercing cold emanating from her stomach. "This has to be a joke. Have you dropped us off on April Fool's, Doctor? Very funny. So funny. I want to go back to the TARDIS now."

He closed his eyes, as if he couldn't look at her anymore. A breath escaped him, shakily.

"I want to go back to the TARDIS now!" She could no longer sound calm. Her voice broke, and she could feel tears starting in her eyes. She stood up. "This isn't funny. I want to go back to the TARDIS. I want…I want….I want to go _home._"

The Doctor opened his eyes. "This is your home, Sarah. I should have never taken you from it."

Her eyes widened. "This is my _home_? This? This flat in an unfamiliar country? Living with people I don't know? Miles away from anyone I care about?" Tears were spilling down her cheeks now. "How could this be home? How could it be home without…without _you_?"

She thought she saw the briefest flicker in his eyes. For just a second, he looked anguished. But then his brown eyes were dead again. Usually so expressive, he kept his face calm. He seemed to be exerting a great effort to keep his face calm.

"Sarah, this is the safest thing for you. Last night…I took you somewhere I should never have taken you. I was incredibly foolish. I let myself get injured, and if you hadn't found me we never would have gotten out of there. I didn't protect you. I _failed _you, Sarah." He paused, and just looked at her. "Sarah, you have to stay here. You have to stay. I can't hurt another companion. I can't do this to you. You deserve better than me. This has to end."

Something felt broken inside of Sarah. "No. This can't end. This doesn't have to end! Please, Doctor, please! You didn't fail me! We're a team! We work _together_! You need me as much as I need you! Don't…don't you need me? Please…I need you. Please don't go."

The Doctor closed his eyes again, as if looking for strength. "I need you to stay safe," He said, looking at her. "If I lost you…I can't bear it. So you have to stay here, and I have to go. It's not safe for me to travel with a companion. Please, Sarah. Stay safe for me."

He wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking past her, and she turned to see that the TARDIS was parked in her room, just in front of her door. Slowly, he started to walk towards the TARDIS. She watched him go, frozen. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Yesterday she'd woken up ready for another adventure and now she was expected to go back to her life on Earth? As if nothing had ever happened? The Doctor was level with her now, about to walk past her. She grabbed his arm.

"Please. Please, Doctor. Don't do this. I can't…I can't stay here. You…you can't…" She tried to go on but couldn't, lost for words. She fell forward onto the Doctor's chest, clutching at his brown suit. She felt so frail. Useless. She didn't even have the power to make the most important person in her life stay. She was about to lose him, and there was nothing she could do.

She felt a hand on her back, and for one wild moment she looked up at him, sure that he had changed his mind. Hopeful, grasping at straws, she looked up at him. That deadened look was still in his eyes. Nothing had changed. He attempted a weak smile, failed, and pulled her gently away from him. And then he had moved away from her, and was in the door of the TARDIS. He was leaving her.

She steadied herself. She could not let him go without one final goodbye. It killed her to say it. "Doctor…please. Please promise me. Just….think of me, okay? Remember me. Because I'll never forget you. Eventually I'm going to convince myself that I'm crazy. That I imagined all of this. That I never woke up from that dream where I ended up on the TARDIS. So remember me. You have to remember me. One day, I won't know if this ever happened. So you have to know." She swallowed. "Remember me. Please."

He just looked at her. "Sarah, how could I ever forget?"

And with that, he turned into the TARDIS and closed the door. The warping sound felt far away, and then the TARDIS was gone. She was alone. Again.

_Author's Note: So this might have been a little cruel to finally update with something...a little more sad than usual. Guys, just wait! I swear I have something else coming up! Please don't throw things at me!_


	22. In Which a Mystery is Solved

_Chapter Twenty Two: In Which a Mystery is Solved_

_Author's note: Wow, I have never received so many responses from one chapter! I'm shocked! I actually wrote this chapter just after I wrote 21, but I didn't post it for a week to build suspense. I'm evil. So this is the huge plot twist that I've been sitting on for a while. Some people figured out at least one of the clues! I hope you like it!_

The doors closed behind him. He wanted to open them and run to Sarah, to tell her that it was all a joke. That he would take it back. That they could go anywhere she wanted. He had wanted to say that the entire time she was talking. It was so painful to watch her, to hear her, pleading with him to change his mind. But it had to be done. It was the only way. Wasn't it?

He moved forward, sluggish, willing himself to reach the controls. He set the TARDIS in motion and felt it warp away. Leaving her behind. He looked around at the control room, the orangey walls of the heart of the TARDIS. The room felt very large, and he felt very alone.

He had made the decision to leave Sarah the previous night. He had replayed the night at the museum over and over in his mind, seeing every awful mistake he'd made. He had been weak. He had been foolish. He had overestimated his abilities and taken Sarah to somewhere out of his depths. It was dangerous. He knew that. And he had almost gotten them killed, had almost gotten _her _killed… It was unbearable, he'd decided. And underneath it all, those visions he had seen…the words he wanted to say to Sarah… But he pushed those thoughts away. He would never tell her. Whatever feelings he might be denying, the fact remained that Sarah's death was unbearable. The only solution was to let her go. On Earth she'd be sad, for a while, but she would move on. She would forget. She could be happy. The Doctor, however….could he be happy without her?

"If you love someone, you let them go, don't you?" He muttered bitterly. He laughed, a harsh laugh that he didn't feel. Then he smashed a hand against the controls, feeling the broken skin and the blood. Tears ran down his face and splashed against his hand, still frozen in the motion of hitting the controls. And then he was pulling levers and turning knobs, reversing the last coordinates. He couldn't stop himself.

The TARDIS warped again and the Doctor opened the doors the second it landed. He rushed outside. He could undo this. He could make things right again. If only…

He seemed to have stopped in the right place. Sarah would have to pass here to get to class. He watched students walk by, oblivious to the man in the brown suit with tears on his face and blood on his hand.

And then he saw her. She was hard to spot, at first. There she was, walking slowly. Alone. Head bent. Eyes on the ground. She looked so sad, he wanted to call out to her, to embrace her…

But she was safe. Sad, but safe. Whole. Unbroken. Could he say that for his other companions?

He wrenched himself away, reentered the TARDIS and warped away. He left her once more.

The TARDIS was still empty. He could not hear Sarah calling him, asking him where their next adventure would lead, teasing him for not being able to tie his ties. He was alone. He had never liked being alone. Memories tended to flood his mind, thoughts of the people he'd wronged, the companions he'd left, the planet that no longer existed. And now there was no Sarah to bring him out of his misery.

He moved away from the control room. He could not trust himself not to pull the TARDIS back to Sarah. Instead, he wandered the labyrinthine halls aimlessly. Somehow, or perhaps he'd meant it all along, he ended up at the door to Sarah's room.

He stood in front of it. His first instinct was to knock, and then he remembered why that was useless. He pushed the door open and it swung forward. She was not waiting on her bed to greet him. He looked at her sunken bed, the strewn covers. She had always kept her bed neat, but he had not given her the chance to tidy. A book sat on a chair in the corner, and her clothing from the day before was in a heap on the floor. And over her bed something was…glowing?

Forgetting his sadness for a moment, he moved forward and stepped closer to the wall behind her bed. There, mounted with a tack, was Sarah's dream catcher. But dream catchers didn't normally glow, did they? And there was something written along the edge….He looked more closely. _17,042,012. Time to start running, Sarah._

The Doctor froze. 17,042,012. 17.04.2012. The date when he'd first met Sarah. But what was gallifreyan writing doing on Sarah's dream catcher? Even as he thought this, new words appeared. They were embroidered on the top of the dream catcher, looking as if they'd always been there. _My own Doctor. What have you done? _

He had only enough time to register the words before he was blasted backwards, blinded by a sudden gold light.

Crouched on the floor, he carefully opened his eyes again. The golden light seemed to have dimmed, but had not faded completely. Through his fingers he could see a shape before him.

"Oh, Doctor. What have you done this time?" A voice said. It sounded familiar, and yet so new.

He lowered his hands to see a woman with curly hair, a grey dress, and dark, searching eyes. There was a smile on her face but she was sad, so sad.

"Do you not remember me, Doctor? You must remember me. Can't you think of my name…thief?"

And he suddenly knew the voice. "You…"

She laughed, beaming. "You? I think I asked you to call me sexy. Yes, my thief. It's me. But you've done something terrible. What have you done?"

"I…I did what was best…for her…" He managed, feeling the words stick in his throat.

She leaned down to kneel with him on the floor. "But what have you done for yourself?"

Her dark eyes searched his. "Did you ever wonder how Sarah appeared on your TARDIS, Doctor?"

He could only look at her. "What?"

"It was a bit out of the blue, wasn't it? This girl just appearing out of nowhere. Didn't you wonder how she got there?"

"I…well, at first, but then things got out of hand." He remembered the sudden Dalek invasion that had successfully distracted him. After they had escaped, it no longer mattered how she'd gotten there. It pained him to think of that day. She had been so brave, and she had trusted him implicitly….

"And then you forgot. Even Sarah doesn't know how she got here. But I do, my thief." She smiled. It was a kind smile, but a little reckless, a little dangerous. "Sarah came here because I brought her here. You had refused to take a companion, after Donna, didn't you my thief? And you wandered the universe alone. Broken. And so dangerous, Doctor. So dangerous. You should never be alone. It hardens you. It eats away at you. And so I found Sarah for you. I searched time and space to find someone who would care for you, and run with you, and keep you safe for me. I drew you to her. I went to her when she was very young and gave her this dream catcher. Very old, very powerful protection. And it would eventually draw her to you, on April 17, 2012. Sarah was destined to come here because I made it so. I brought her here to you."

The Doctor could only look at her, could not process what he was hearing.

She smiled indulgently at his blank expression. "I searched for someone who would love you," She told him, gently stroking his cheek. "Who you would love back."

"You need her, Doctor. As much as she needs you. You can protect her from dangers, and she can protect you from _yourself._"

She rose, smiling down at him. His own TARDIS. "Go to her, thief. Bring her back. Don't run alone."

And with that, she disappeared in a vapor of gold mist.

Sarah whipped her head around, more excited than she'd been in days. She could have sworn she heard the warping of the TARDIS, thought she'd seen a blue box disappearing from the clearing to her left. She tore past the students walking to class, disregarding their shouts of protest in her efforts to get to the clearing. She had seen it. She knew it.

But when she reached the clearing, nothing was there. She bit back the sob that suddenly rose to her throat. She'd been on the verge of tears for days, ever since the Doctor had left her. She had been so happy, and then he'd left, and her world fell apart. And then she'd heard that noise…

She'd been imagining things. She must have heard that noise at least five times a day, but this time it had seemed so real… She composed herself and returned to the path. She would be alright. She had lived her whole life without the Doctor, and she would be alright without him. She hoped.

Minutes later she heard the warping noise again, just as convincing. But she did not turn her head. It was too painful to look and be disappointed again. She walked on, determined not to look.

"Sarah!"

She knew that voice. She turned, and there he was. The Doctor in his brown coat, hands in his pockets, grinning sheepishly.

"Need a lift?"


	23. In Which a Secret is Revealed

_Chapter Twenty Three: In Which a Secret is Revealed_

_Author's note- Hey guys! Sorry this took so long! Finals and such. This is sort of a short chapter but I'll try to post another soon. Thanks for sticking with me! I hope you like it._

For a second, Sarah was frozen. She just stared at the blue box and the man in the brown trench coat. _This can't be real, _she thought. _It can't…_

The man's smile faltered. "Sarah?"

But what did it matter if it was a hallucination, really? This whole experience with the Doctor had seemed like a dream. Nothing had seemed real since she woke up on the TARDIS so long ago. _If this is a dream, I think I'll stay asleep. _She grinned and dashed forward, causing some minor collisions as she pushed through the other pedestrians. Before she could think about it her arms were thrown around the Doctor's neck.

They hugged fiercely for a moment, and then Sarah broke away to look into the Doctor's eyes. "Do _not _do that again."

And with that, she strode into the TARDIS. Where she belonged. The Doctor grinned and, a moment later, followed her. The blue box slowly faded away, unnoticed by the students hurrying to class.

Sarah was seated in her preferred spot, on the coiled cables in the corner, looking as if she'd never left. The Doctor took a steadying breath, steeling himself. He wouldn't hide it from her any longer. He would tell her. Now.

The Doctor stood and watched Sarah as she made herself comfortable. He didn't register how long he stood there, simply watching her. Finally, she looked up at him, a little sheepish.

"Sorry. It's just…nice to be back."

"It's nice to have you back, Sarah." When was the right moment to tell her? How do you even tell this sort of thing to a person? Do you just blurt it out? Do you work it in casually?

"So are you going to explain what just happened to me?" Sarah asked.

"I—" The Doctor was shocked by her suddenly harsh tone. "Yes, of course. Yes. Well."

"Because you really put me through the mill, you know. I mean, I'm glad you've changed your mind and all, but do you know how long you left me for? A month. A month of _torture. _A month of me pathetically thinking I heard the TARDIS at every turn. A month of being abandoned. A month of being stuck on this stupid planet and feeling like an idiot because I actually thought you…"

He waited, his breath caught in his throat. _Please, _he thought desperately, _finish that sentence. _But his face betrayed no emotion. He looked at her, eyes deadened. His classic look, honed over too many years of living. It looked calm, emotionless. And he always felt it appear on his face when his internal emotions were in the most turmoil.

"Anyway. I'd just like to hear an explanation, is all." She finished.

He walked slowly across the room and sat in the chair in front of the controls. He leaned down to her, to address her on her level. She was angrier than he'd ever seen her. Angry…and hurt. And he deserved it.

"Sarah, I struggled with the decision I made. But I felt that it was the best thing. I allowed you to enter into a situation I should have known was dangerous. I'm getting old….too old. I should never have taken you there, not at night. It was foolish. We were lucky to get out of there. I couldn't protect you, and it made me realize that I could lose you. And I couldn't face that. So I thought that it was better to leave you here, safe on Earth, then to risk your life by taking you with me. And I see now that I was wrong—"

"Wrong? You _bet _you were wrong. Why would you make this decision without even discussing it with me?"

He looked at her, stunned. This was never the reaction that he expected. "I…thought I was acting in your best interests. And I knew you would never agree to it."

"You're damn right I wouldn't!"

He was moving slowly toward her, hands out, trying to placate her. She stood, backing away. She took a breath, trying to steady herself. "Do you understand what you did?" She said, almost in a whisper. "You made a huge decision about my life _for _me. Without consulting me. I am not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself! I very often take care of you!" Her voice had gone shrill. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm. "I love traveling with you, Doctor. But I need to be your partner, not your….I don't know." She opened her eyes and met his tortured gaze. "I think I need to be alone for a while."

She walked away from him, and he heard a door shut somewhere in the TARDIS.

He moved to the controls and bent his head, defeated. He had ruined everything.

"Sarah, if I never get a chance to say it…" He whispered to the empty room, "I love you." And no one heard him.


	24. In Which They Are Stubborn

_In Which They Are Stubborn_

_Author's note- Haha. Er. Please don't kill me. I know, I know, it's been 50 million years. I'm sorry! But hey, I graduate college in a week! So that's a thing._

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her the regret kicked in. Not for what she'd said, of course- he needed to hear that. It was important. _Or is it….? _She was losing her resolve. What if he decided that she was too much to handle? Too bossy and annoying? Was she really going to give up the TARDIS for her sense of independence? And she just had to do it seconds after she got back…._great. He's going to knock on my door and tell me to leave. Any second now._

But the knock never came. Hours past- or it felt like hours, anyway, as time passed strangely on the TARDIS- and there was no sound. She felt silly to have left in such a huff. For the sake of her pride she couldn't leave her room, not without finding the Doctor and…..and what? Apologizing? She wouldn't take back what she said. She couldn't. She was in the right…_aren't I? Or should it be his TARDIS, his rules? _She threw herself back onto the pile of pillows on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She could see the dream catcher out of the corner of her eye. The gold thread twinkled. She closed her eyes, trying to think of anything but the Doctor.

"_You know, you're very stubborn." _

_There was a golden light coming from her right. She turned her head to see what it was, but had to shield her eyes. It was too bright. She could feel someone sitting next to her, though, someone with a long, full dress._

"_Of course, so is he. My thief. It's why I thought you would make such a good pair, you know." _

"_But I yelled at him. He must hate me." The words came out of her mouth without her consent, unbidden. She sounded like a petulant child. _

_A woman laughed beside her. "I've never believed that you should find people who balance you out. There should be competition in the best friendships. And he needs to be yelled at. He has such an ego on him!"_

_She could feel the woman move next to her, moving away. She spoke again and her voice sounded far away._

"_He's my thief. He stole me and I do believe he stole you too. He's not going to give you back any time soon. And unless I'm mistaken, he's stolen your heart too, hasn't he? The rascal…" The rest was drowned out in laughter and golden light…_

The Doctor wandered the TARDIS, feeling empty. He had no purpose, besides a vague desire to go to the library. It was his favorite haunt for times when he needed to think, or to be alone. But right now he didn't want to think. His only thoughts were of Sarah, and how he'd hurt her, and how he had thought his intentions were so good. And he didn't want to be alone. He wanted Sarah. She calmed him, she made him laugh, she was fascinating, she was so….but he didn't want to finish that thought. He sighed and pushed open the door, but it was not the library that he found. It was the observatory- Sarah's favorite haunt. He ran his fingers through his hair, hating that his unconscious mind took him _here, _of all places.

He meant to leave. Meant to, but his feet didn't seem to agree with him. They walked him forward, to the glass that separated him from the expanse of space in front of him. Somehow he sat down, without meaning to. He meant to leave, go to the library, curl up, pretend he hadn't messed everything up. How had everything gone so wrong? He'd meant to admit his feelings for her, to confront a situation head on, for once in his long life…but he'd done everything wrong. _Maybe I'm not supposed to be happy. And how could she be happy with me? She's got just one life to live, and so much potential….why waste it on a 900 year old time traveler? Why waste it with me?_

He didn't know how long he sat there. It could have been minutes. Or hours. Or days. Finally, though, he stirred at a noise behind him.

"Oh. I…didn't think you'd be here."

He whipped around. There she was, clothes slightly rumpled, as though she'd been sleeping in them, hair mussed and tumbled down around her shoulders. He stood immediately, and awkwardly.

"I- I'm sorry, I can go, if you like…" He felt as if he was intruding, in his own TARDIS.

"No, please, stay…I….I should probably talk to you, about what I said earlier." She moved an uncertain step closer.

"Or you could just stay here." He blurted it out, quickly, and without thinking.

"I- what?"

"Avoiding uncomfortable topics is my specialty. So, you could just…stay here. For a while. And we can pretend that nothing happened."

Her eyebrows furrowed, but her mouth twitched. Good signs. Signs that she thought he was an idiot. Signs that she was forgiving him. "Isn't that unhealthy?"

"Probably. But you know, I think that's the one thing I'm unfamiliar with, a healthy relationship. Friendship, I mean. Healthy friendship."

"Right. I don't know how those work either…healthy friendships, I mean."

She moved to stand beside him, and both turned to look out at the stars and galaxies. He felt that he could communicate his feelings better to one of those stars than to the girl standing beside her. But he had to try, didn't he?

"Sarah, I need to tell you something. I've been thinking this for a while and I haven't said anything but I really think you need to know. I think I—"

"Look, Doctor—"

"I know, I know, you probably don't feel the same way, but just hear me out, please—"

"No, I mean _look, _Doctor!"

He turned. Out among the stars, and coming ever closer, was a ship. A long, oval metal disc, lights flashing, coming way too fast…

"Doctor? Doctor? What are we going to do?"

He turned back to her. "We're going to run."


End file.
